#i have many feelings about first person narration but i will be quiet

[fictionstudent]

How to pull off descriptions

New authors always describe the scene and place every object on the stage before they press the play button of their novels. And I feel that it happens because we live in a world filled with visual media like comics and films, which heavily influence our prose.

In visual media, it’s really easy to set the scene—you just show where every object is, doesn’t matter if they’re a part of the action about to come or not. But prose is quite different from comics and films. You can’t just set the scene and expect the reader to wait for you to start action of the novel. You just begin the scene with action, making sure your reader is glued to the page.

And now that begs the question—if not at the beginning, where do you describe the scene? Am I saying you should not use descriptions and details at all? Hell naw! I’m just saying the way you’re doing it is wrong—there’s a smarter way to pull off descriptions. And I’m here to teach that to you.

***

#01 - What are descriptions?

Let’s start with the basics—what are descriptions? How do you define descriptions? Or details, for that matter? And what do the words include?

Descriptions refer to… descriptions. It’s that part of your prose where you’re not describing something—the appearance of an object, perhaps. Mostly, we mean scene-descriptions when we use the term, but descriptions are more than just scene-descriptions.

Descriptions include appearances of characters too. Let’s call that character-descriptions.

Both scene-descriptions and character-descriptions are forms of descriptions that we regularly use in our prose. We mostly use them at the beginning of the scene—just out of habit.

Authors, especially the newer ones, feel that they need to describe each and every nook and cranny of the place or character so they can be visualized clearly by their readers, right as the authors themselves visualized them. And they do that at the start of the scene because how can you visualize a scene when you don’t know how the scene looks first.

And that’s why your prose is filled with how the clouds look or what lights are on the room before you even start with the dialogues and action. But the first paragraph doesn’t need to be a simple scene-description—it makes your prose formulaic and predictable. And boring. Let me help you with this.

***

#02 - Get in your narrator’s head

The prose may have many MCs, but a piece of prose only has a single narrator. And these days, that’s mostly one of the characters of your story. Who uses third-person omniscient narrator these days anyway? If that’s you, change your habits.

Anyway, know your narrator. Flesh out their character. And then internalize them—their speech and stuff like that. Internalize your narrator to such an extent that you can write prose from their point-of-view.

Now, I don’t mean to say that only your narrator should be at the center of the scene—far from it. What I mean is you should get into your narrator’s head.

You do not describe a scene from the eyes of the author—you—but from the eyes of the narrator. You see from their eyes, and understand what they’re noticing. And then you write that.

Start your scene with what the narrator is looking at.

For example,

The dark clouds had covered the sky that day. The whole classroom was in shades of gray—quite unusual for someone like Sara who was used to the sun. She felt the gloom the day had brought with it—the gloom that no one else in her class knew of.

She never had happy times under the clouds like that. Rain made her sad. Rain made her yearn for something she couldn’t put into words. What was it that she was living for? Money? Happiness?

As she stared at the sky through the window, she was lost in her own quiet little corner. Both money and happiness—and even everything else—were temporary. All of it would leave her one day, then come back, then leave, then come back, like the waves of an ocean far away from any human civilization in sight.

All of it would come and go—like rain, it’d fall on her, like rain, it’d evaporate without proof.

And suddenly, drops of water began hitting the window.

You know it was a cloudy day, where it could rain anytime soon. You know that for other students, it didn’t really matter, but Sara felt really depressed because of the weather that day. You know Sara was at the corner, dealing with her emotions alone.

It’s far better than this,

The dark clouds covered the sky that day. It could rain anytime soon.

From her seat at the corner of the room, Sara stared at the sky that made everything gray that day. She…

The main reason it doesn’t work is that you describe the scene in the first paragraph, but it’s devoid of any emotions. Of any flavor. It’s like a factual weather report of the day. That’s what you don’t want to do—write descriptions in a factual tone.

If you want to pull off the prior one, get to your narrator’s head. See from their eyes, think from their brain. Understand what they’re experiencing, and then write that experience from their POV.

Sara didn’t care what everyone was wearing—they were all probably in their school uniforms, obviously, so I didn’t describe that. Sara didn’t focus on how big the classroom was, or how filled, or what everybody was doing. Sara was just looking at the clouds and the clouds alone, hearing everybody just living their normal days, so I mentioned just those things.

As the author, you need to understand that only you, the author are the know-it-all about the scene, not your narrator. And that you’re different from your narrator.

Write as a narrator, not as an author.

***

#03 - Filler Words

This brings me to filler words. Now, hearing my advice, you might start writing something like this,

Sarah noticed the dark clouds through the window. She saw that they’d saturated the place gray.

Fillers words like “see”, “notice”, “stare”, “hear” should be ignored. But many authors who begin writing from the POV of the characters start using these verbs to describe what the character is experiencing.

But remember, the character is not cognizant of the fact that they’re seeing a dark cloud, just that it’s a dark cloud. You don’t need these filler words—straight up describe what the character is seeing, instead of describing that the character is seeing.

Just write,

There were dark clouds on the other end of the window, which saturated the place gray.

Sarah is still seeing the clouds, yeah. But we’re looking from her eyes, and her eyes ain’t noticing that she’s noticing the clouds.

It’s kinda confusing, but it’s an important mistake to avoid. Filler words can really make your writing sound more amateurish than before and take away the experience of the reader, because the reader wants to see through the narrator’s eyes, not that the narrator is seeing.

***

#04 - Characters

Character-descriptions are a lot harder to pull off than scene-descriptions. Because it’s really confusing to know when to describe them, their clothing, their appearances, and what to tell and what not to.

For characters, you can give a full description of their looks. Keep it concise and clear, so that your readers can get a pretty good idea of the character with so few words that they don’t notice you’ve stopped action for a while.

Or can show your narrator scanning the character, and what they noticed about them.

Both these two tricks only work when a character is shown first time to the readers. After that, you don’t really talk about their clothing or face anymore.

Until there’s something out of the ordinary about your character.

What do I mean by that? See, you’ve described the face and clothes of the character, and the next time they appear, the reader is gonna imagine the character in a similar set of clothes, with the same face and appearance that they had the first time. Therefore, any time other than the first, you don’t go into detail about the character again. But, if something about your character is out of ordinary—there are bruises on their face, scars, or a change in the way they dress—describe it to the reader. That’s because your narrator may notice these little changes.

***

#05 - Clothing

Clothing is a special case. Some new authors describe the clothes of the characters when they’re describing the character every time the reader sees them. So, I wanna help you with this.

Clothing can be a way to show something about your character—a character with a well-ironed business suit is gonna be different from a character with tight jeans and baggy t-shirt. Therefore, only use clothing to tell something unique about the character.

Refrain from describing the clothing of characters that dress like most others. Like, in a school, it’s obvious that all characters are wearing school uniforms. Also, a normal teenage boy may wear t-shirts and denim jeans. If your character is this, no need to describe their clothing—anything the reader would be imagining is fine.

Refrain from describing the clothing of one-dimensional side-characters—there’s a high chance you’ve not really created them well enough that they have clothing that differs from the expectations of the readers. We all know what waiters wear, or what a college guy who was just passing by in the scene would be wearing.

You may describe the clothing of the important character in the story, but only in the first appearance. After that, describe their clothes only if the clothes seem really, really different from the first time. And stop describing their clothes if you’ve set your character well enough in the story that your readers know what to expect from them in normal circumstances—then, describe clothes only when they’re really, really different from their usual forms of clothing.

***

#06 - Conclusion

I think there was so much I had to say in this article, but I didn’t do a good job. However, I said all that I wanted to say. I hope you guys liked the article and it helps you in one way or the other.

And please subscribe if you want more articles like this straight in your inbox!

[alchemistc]

You never let me in, Buck sends, two of three sheets fully winded, and when he kicks his leg over the coffee table he nearly knocks over three empties.

They do this thing, right? Buck gets upset and before the tears can fall, because he's cried too many fucking times already, he makes himself angry. Picks at something that has come up every time he's done a post-mortem on the last six months.

And then he sends that shit to Tommy. Because - because who the fuck else is he supposed to talk to about it? The guy who'd sucked him off in the hallway of a nightclub two weeks ago? The woman who'd spent an hour quietly helping Buck understand that yeah, he was very much bi, and yeah, some people did not like that shit? Maddie, or Chim, or Hen or Eddie, who still might interact with him on the job? Bobby? Fuck, not Bobby.

Bobby who'd blinked at Buck and offered platitudes and apologized to Buck like it was somehow his fault Tommy was good people but he was the kind of good people who just walked out on something that could have been something.

I should have pushed more. I know I should have. I just thought since I was trying to share everything, you were too.

My mistake.

Three months and Buck isn't over it. He's far enough into the mourning process that he thinks this one is always gonna sting, and not for the reasons Tommy thinks.

That's not fair. I'm sorry.

The texts get delivered. Tommy reads them. Buck's had read receipts on since the first time Tommy went quiet on a call and Buck freaked out a little - but back then they were still working towards something. Back then, sometimes Tommy would pull out his phone and open the thread just to give Buck sign of life.

He was always doing that. Heading shit off at the pass.

Buck had just never realized he'd be able to do it to hurt him, just as well as take care of him.

Every four weeks like clockwork Buck gets a response. He has no fucking idea why it's four weeks, what the third Thursday of the month has to do with Tommy feeling gracious enough to give Buck some clarity. He'd never known enough about Tommy, is the thing he's coming around to. He'd done everything he could to bring Tommy in, make him a part, and Tommy had let him. Tommy had distracted him with quippy words and a clever tongue and with being so fucking willing to be integrated into Buck's life that Buck just - hadn't noticed.

No one will say it, but he Bucked It Up in the worst kind of way.

He's waited until Third Thursday to send these texts. He actually hasn't sent anything at all, until this moment, and he wonders if Tommy noticed. If he cared. Tommy picks and chooses from Buck's random thoughts, parses out details like he's reading from a manual and Buck is off topic two thirds of the time. Buck doesn't actually know why he's been answering, all this time. He wonders if, in the last four weeks of silence, he thought he was finally done with Buck.

He wonders if it had hurt.

Buck sets his phone down to stand, skating across to the kitchen in his socks for the pizza rolls in the oven.

His diet is shit. His body feels like crap. He's one more drunken nights sleep on the couch away from emptying the rack in his fridge down the drain and giving sobriety a try. The last person he'd slept with had hinted that they'd prefer not to use condoms and Buck had almost let them.

Buck has worth. He knows he does. It's just sometimes when he remembers that every person he's ever loved has either walked out on him or let him walk away when he needed them, he struggles to find that worth.

His life has meaning, and all that jazz.

Buck sort of wonders if Tommy hasn't finally blocked his number, as he tosses a too-hot pizza roll in his mouth and huffs on the lava cheese burning his tongue. After the last message Buck had sent, three weeks ago, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.

(This is basically just an unhinged grief journal with an unreliable second narrator. Do you know what it's like to realize you're still in love with someone who never let you know them?)

There's been no response to that. Fair. Buck hadn't even actually said the words. No, he'd jumped right into the sharing a life part, cart before the horse as always when emotions were high.

The pizza rolls get tipped onto a plate and are immediately swimming in the heavy pour of ranch he'd prepared after he set the oven to preheat.

It cools them off a lot quicker than popping a hole in each seam and waiting.

It's been eight years since Buck has really even thought about that little trick.

When he opens his phone there's no response. No receipt. Just stark words waiting to be acknowledged.

I gave you my family, Tommy. You didn't even introduce me to your team at Harbor.

It's startling to realize after the fact. He doubts Tommy had meant it that way, but he'd basically spent six months being love bombed only to have the rug ripped right out from under his feet.

And yet. Months later and he still wants to know. Know why. Know how he could have done it, with tears in his eyes, with full awareness that it was already gonna hurt. Know Tommy - anything he'd part with, really, that wasn't something every random acquaintance also knew.

Cool, he'd been jealous of what Buck and the 118 had. (Buck had tried to give him that. Or at least he thought he had.)

Great, he didn't talk to his dad and Gerrard was a shitty captain. (Buck had spent an hour once explaining the first time he and his dad had spoken about Daniel without screaming at each other. Tommy had listened to the rants about Gerrard and offered physical comfort and a 'sounds like him' and Buck had just been so relieved to have an ally amongst the 'life is just like this sometimes' crowd that he'd never examined that.)

He was a Kinsey six who'd been engaged to the first woman Buck had ever really loved and they'd never dug deeper than that.

And Buck had apparently interpreted some of the shit he'd said that night wrong, but he still doesn't think it's fucking fair that Tommy can't trust him to know his own fucking mind well enough to know he hates sleeping around and he'd found the sort of connection he was looking for. He'd found it. Even with the lack of reciprocation. Even with the quiet behind Tommy's eyes that he'd never let Buck in on. Even with the -

His phone buzzes on the coffee table.

Can we talk?

Buck kinda hates those words in that order now. They'd been the start of something twice, but they'd always been leading to an end, if Tommy had his way.

Once every four weeks, apparently, Buck sends back and takes a vicious bite.

His phone chimes with an incoming call.

Buck stares at the name he hasn't had the stomach to remove the little heart from. Lets it ring through to voicemail and then shoves three more pizza rolls into his mouth and doesn't care if they burn off his taste buds.

His phone rings again.

"What?"

"I'm outside your building. Didn't want to make any assumptions that I'd be welcome without asking first."

Buck can feel his ribs cracking under the lurch of angry laughter. "What the hell?"

"Well the parking around here is miserable again, so I figure that's a sign."

"Are you driving right now?"

"Hands off. I'm on Bluetooth. So. Should I circle the building a fifth time or call it now and go home?"

Buck gets stuck on fifth time.

There's no way he hadn't been driving since at least before Buck sent that first text.

Buck sighs. There's absolutely no reason to be hopeful about that. For all he knows, Tommy has just decided dousing any residual flames is just another thing he has to do in person.

"My Jeep's in the shop. I'll buzz you into the garage."

Tommy's silent for a long, long moment. The quip comes anyway. "I keep telling you that thing is a money pit."

"I'm not really feeling the flirty banter, right now, Tommy, so maybe just let me know when you're at the gate."

He does. He hangs up the phone twenty seconds later with a plain "See you soon."

Buck doesn't have time to change. Fix his hair. Hide the sheet pan with half a dozen pizza rolls still laying on it, because he'd cooked way too many again.

(He could absolutely do one of these things but if Tommy's gonna throw this at him, he's getting every little slovenly habit Bucks's picked up since he walked out that door.)

The knock comes while Buck's shoving the last two rolls on his plate into his mouth.

He's still chewing with his mouth open to blow out the steam when he swings the door open, and Buck feels the first inklings of pleasure ripple through him at the sight of Tommy.

He looks like shit.

"You look like shit."

Tommy's brow ticks up. He stares pointedly at the glob of not-cheese that's going to absolutely ruin this sweatshirt.

"That tends to happen when you spend an hour in an armchair two sizes too small picking at trauma you've been hiding from your therapist for six years."

Buck opens the door wider. Holy crap. Tommy might legitimately be more fucked up than Buck.

Tommy's smile is strained. "Can I come in?"

Buck holds his gaze. His eyes are a little red. He's got a red spot along the side of his neck, like he's been rubbing at it. Buck only recognizes it as a comforting motion because he's replayed him doing it half a million times right before he ended things.

"Depends. Is this the last time you respond to my mean, rude, asshole texts for an hour after therapy rubs you raw?" Third Thursday Therapy, is apparently what does it. Buck is - god. He just wants -

"God, I hope not," Tommy says, and Buck takes a step to the side to let Tommy in.

[sarahscribbles]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐩, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚��𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟔𝐤

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @inklore

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The God of Mischief is laughing beside you. 

It’s quiet against the happy chatter of the TV but still sends a rush of warmth straight to your heart - like taking a straight shot of Tennessee whiskey on a winter’s evening. It’s nothing like the bitter, sardonic sound he reserves for most of the team - this laughter is light and joyous and unquestionably happy.

It’s…nice, and it’s quickly becoming your favourite sound in the world. 

Much like how Loki is becoming your favourite person in the world. It’s been gradual, like the first blooming flowers of spring, and, if you’re being honest, entirely unexpected. Only a few months ago Loki was nothing more than a thorn in your side. Now, you can’t imagine your life without him. 

In a short space of time, he’s become your best friend and your confidante; he’s the first person you want to run to when you have a bad day, the first person you want to run to when you have a good day, and, steadily, he’s starting to feel like home. 

He isn’t a monster intent on destruction or a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

He’s just Loki, the man whose happiness is slowly becoming yours.

His chest bounces beneath your ear again. You have no idea what the narrator has just said, but it was evidently something that Loki found amusing, and his laughter pulls an easy smile across your face. “I love hearing you laugh,” you murmur quietly, nuzzling even further into his side. 

Maybe it’s because the man who so many people are still quick to call a villain is reclined back on your sofa with his legs stretched out on the massive ottoman, maybe it’s because he’s cradling you to his cashmere clad chest like he never wants to let you go, or maybe it’s because of the random kisses he’s been pressing to the top of your head all evening. 

Whatever it is, you’re overcome with softness for him. Behind the aloof, icy facade is a golden heart, and you’re seeing more and more of the goodness that lies within it every single day.

“Is that so? Then we should watch your little mortal box more often, darling. It’s rather endearing to hear Midgardians attempt to understand Asgard,” he reponds, mirth lighting up his voice while his fingertips trail softly along your upper arm.

He misses the fond roll of your eyes only because something else has caught his attention that he must pass comment on, and you listen enthralled while he explains the actual differences between Valhalla and Fólkvangr. You’ve both been watching this documentary on Norse mythology for over an hour, and Loki has spent a large chunk of it pointing out every wrong detail no matter how small. 

Each deep, exasperated sigh and pronounced click of his tongue has you giggling like a child beneath his arm, to which he squeezes you that little bit tighter. He’s proud of himself, and it makes you wonder if he’s actually annoyed by the portrayal of his home or if it’s all an act to make you laugh. 

With Loki, either is highly likely. 

“Do you know what amuses me, darling?” he says lightly, still trailing those elegant fingers along your arm. You expect to hear something more about what the documentary has gotten wrong, but that’s not what comes. “A few months ago, you actively despised me. Now, I believe you would climb into me if you could.” His voice is soft, leaving no room for you to doubt that he’s only teasing. 

You burrow deeper into his embrace. “I didn’t despise you,” you reply with a small smile.

His arm tightens around your shoulders again and something warm and golden blooms in the pit of your stomach. It’s too soon to call it what you know it is, but you feel the flame burn brighter with every second you spend with him.

The man you’re currently twisted around is brilliant and loving and your heart fits right in the palm of his hand. It’s safe there, you know. You trust him, even though everyone you know has warned you not to. 

It’s one of the easiest things you’ve ever done. 

Loki’s chest rumbles with laughter again. “Darling, you despised me,” he repeats, but you know he’s smiling along with you. 

You pretend to huff, but reach out to poke his side, delighting in the way he squirms beneath your tickling touch. “I didn’t! I didn’t like you, but I didn’t despise you, either,”

“That knife you threw at me in the training room after Yule begs to differ,” he shoots back seamlessly, while you force back laughter at the memory of his face frozen in shock at your expert aim. 

You shrug lightly into his chest. “Natasha told me I needed to practice more. 

“Darling, I can assure you she meant to practice on inanimate objects. 

You tilt your head back to peer up at him with a teasing smile. “You were inanimate; you were standing in the doorway.” 

Loki releases an exasperated sigh but wraps both arms tightly around you to pull you fully into his lap. “Little menace,” he replies while you pretend to squirm in his grip. It only makes him grip you tighter until you’re clamped inescapably against his chest. 

Through the rich material of his sweater, you can feel his firm chest and the taut muscles of his stomach. The man is a work of art, yet it’s you who's straddling his lap - an unremarkable mortal. 

He smiles at you as you continue to admire him, and it’s a smile that’s almost shy. “What’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours, hmm?” he asks quietly, resting his hands on your hips.

“You. Thinking about you,” you answer, watching the faint tinge of pink that colours his cheeks. 

His hands slide up from your hips only a fraction until he can dip his thumbs underneath the hem of your shirt to trace absentminded circles on your bare skin. It’s an innocent touch, but it sends something electric shooting along your spine. 

“Oh? Do elaborate, darling,” he purrs. 

Loki’s eyes are sparkling with amusement, but you can read the need for praise that’s swirling deep beneath the surface. It’s one thing you can’t deny him. 

“I was thinking about how beautiful you are,” you tell him, sliding your hands from around his neck to stroke his biceps. “And how lucky I am,” you continue. 

The muscles in his neck flex and you feel your resolve crumble to dust. It’s been calling out to you from the moment he pulled you into his lap, and you can no longer deny yourself the luxury of pressing your lips to his skin. 

Loki’s broken inhale is instant and his fingers curl tighter around your waist. Your teeth are quickly grazing along his throat while you suck a bruise into his skin. You want to mark him, to stake your claim on him. 

You want to leave no doubt that this god - this beautiful, wonderful man - is yours. 

“Darling, you need -,” he begins, but it melts to a moan when you run your tongue along his neck. “Darling,” he tries again. 

You silence him with a kiss. It’s slow and deep, and when you tangle your fingers in his hair to tug it, he rolls his hips experimentally against you. The hard length of him presses wondrously against you, coaxing your hips to grind down on top of him. Loki’s breath catches in his throat while he kisses you, and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth. 

“Darling, anymore of that and -,” 

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, cupping his face in your hands. “I’m ready.” 

His eyes soften as they take you in, scanning your face for even a breath of hesitation. “Are you sure?” he asks, while his thumbs return to stroking your sides. 

“Yes,” you answer firmly, resting your forehead against his. “No more waiting. Please.” 

In one smooth movement, his arms are wrapping around your middle to press you tightly against him. One strong hand weaves its way into your hair while his lips find yours again. There’s a new hunger to his kiss - it’s raw and possessive and filled with a need that has been simmering beneath the surface for months. 

You expect him to flip you onto your back and finally make you his right here on the sofa, but his hands eagerly begin to run down your back and grip beneath your thighs. Suddenly, he’s on his feet and your legs are locking around his waist. You can’t help but giggle against his lips, because he’s not letting you break this kiss even for a second. 

“Beautiful thing,” he whispers into your mouth, effortlessly carrying you from your living area and down the hallway toward your bedroom. 

The Norse mythology documentary is long forgotten. 

His lips stay locked to yours until your back hits the bedroom door, and only then does he break away to curse as he fumbles with the handle. You laugh quietly - because for some reason it’s oddly endearing - and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

Loki wastes no time in kicking the door closed when you’re finally through. Vaguely, you notice a faint green shimmer cascade over the wood as it settles in the doorframe, but it’s pushed from your mind by the frenzy of kisses that Loki is pressing to every inch of your face. 

“Do you know,” he murmurs, trailing a haphazard line of kisses along your cheeks, “how long I’ve wanted this? Wanted you?”

His admission fans the flames of desire burning fiercely in your stomach. How have you lasted so long without inviting him into your bed? How have you not had this man again and again until his name is seared into your soul? How have you not realised how fiercely he burns for you too?

“Then take me. Please,” you murmur against his lips. 

His answering smile is soft and gives you another swift kiss. “Begging won’t be necessary, darling.” 

With surprising gentleness, he lays you on the bed amongst your pile of pillows. Your legs fall open instantly for him, to which he quickly climbs between. There’s a hesitance to his movements, almost as if he’s scared to lay a finger on you. 

“I’m not going to break,” you say with a smirk. “You can touch me. I need you to touch me, Loki.” 

Your hands find the hem of his sweater, coaxing it along his back until he’s helping you pull it off. You’ve seen him shirtless before - many times - but your fingers still reach hungrily for his chest. Loki shivers beneath your touch and pride blooms happily in your stomach. 

An unremarkable mortal you may be, but you have a god shivering beneath your fingers. 

Slowly, his hands slip underneath your shirt, and cool fingers glide along your stomach to push it over your head. His eyes travel appreciatively over you before settling on your breasts. 

“Enchanting, beautiful thing,” he says, leaning to press his lips to your neck. 

The reverence in his voice has a rush of heat pulse between your thighs while you grasp his strong shoulders. Too many times, previous lovers have made you feel like you were nothing more than an object, something that was conveniently there for them to fuck. 

Not with Loki, though. The man has barely undressed you and he’s treating you like the most precious thing his hands have ever held. 

Boldly, you reach for his belt, shooting him a suggestive smirk while you unfasten it. He lets you work, diving in for another blistering kiss as you undo the button and open the zipper. The taste of him on your tongue and the feel of him beneath your fingers is electrifying, and there’s a newfound urgency in your movements as you try to push his jeans off. 

After a few strategic tugs they slide over his hips, granting you the freedom to run your hands greedily over the firm swell of his ass. You can’t help but moan shamelessly into his mouth while simultaneously squeezing him with both hands. He’s a work of art beneath your appreciative fingertips. 

Something close to a growl rises from Loki’s chest and he gently nips at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Are you trying to seduce me?” he purrs lightly. 

Grinning, you squeeze his ass again. “It’s been my evil plan all along.” 

“Ah! I’ve been bested by a beautiful little devil!” he teases and lowers his lips back to your neck. 

His kisses are slow and deliberate and punctuated by the occasional nip of his teeth. You know what he’s doing; you know that every mark he’ll place on you tonight is a claim, a message to anyone who looks that he’s finally made you his.

The molten beast of arousal burns fiercer between your thighs. You hope and pray that you’ll be covered in his marks tomorrow. You want everyone to know that you belong to him.

Loki interlocks the fingers of one hand with yours, all while slowly trailing a path of kisses along your chest and down your stomach. It’s silent adoration - a god worshipping his mortal - and he only stops when his lips meet the waistband of your leggings. You feel him hesitate, feel him run the pad of his thumb across the material while he lifts his eyes to yours.

It only takes you a second to realise he’s asking for permission. 

You nod quickly and breathe out a quiet “yes.” 

Loki presses a final kiss to your stomach and gently squeezes your hand. He lets go to hook both sets of fingers into your leggings, taking great care not to jostle you around while he tugs them - along with your underwear - easily down your legs. You’re suddenly bare before him and, stupidly, you feel a rush of nervousness pulse through you. This man has slept with gods and goddesses and beings more beautiful than you can even imagine. 

How can you compare?

Glittering green eyes travel hungrily over you. The earlier softness is still shining there clear as day, but now it’s swirling and mixing openly with undisguised lust. It causes a gentle heat to burn beneath your skin and, almost subconsciously, you attempt to cover yourself. 

But Loki is having none of it. 

His hands reach to clasp yours and he folds your fingers easily between his, pinning your arms to the mattress. “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on,” he says slowly, making sure you hear every word. 

“Are you trying to seduce me?” you repeat his question back to him, though even you can hear the shakiness of your own voice. 

Loki’s answering smile is infectiously boyish. “Is it working?” 

He can likely hear your heart thundering in your chest, but you still reply with, “maybe. I’m not sure yet.” 

“Hmm, perhaps I need to try a little harder?” he says, still grinning impishly.

His hands slide to gently grip your wrists so he can guide your arms around his neck. It’s such a simple gesture, but it makes your heart swell in your chest because he trusts you enough to touch him. You hum contentedly and tangle your hands loosely in his hair, twisting silky strands around your fingertips as he drops his lips back to your chest.

His kisses are slower now and the warmth of his lips lingers like a dream against your skin. It’s as though he finds his pleasure from simply kissing you, like that alone is enough to send him freefalling into bliss. It’s a heady thought that has your back arching, greedily searching for more of him or maybe offering up more of yourself. 

You aren’t entirely sure. 

Loki’s lips travel lower in tandem with his hands that are curled around your middle. His touch is so intoxicating, so wonderfully addictive that you can’t stop the quiet whimper that slips from between your lips. You feel him smile against the skin of your lower stomach, feel his thumbs trace tiny circles against your hipbones, and when he hovers just millimeters from your cunt, you automatically hold your breath. 

When nothing happens you flick your eyes questioningly down to his. 

Loki is gazing at you with desire storming in his eyes, so much so that they’re almost completely black. He looks like a man starved and doesn’t break his gaze from yours as he bends his head to lick a firm, slow stripe along the length of your cunt. Electricity crackles almost joyously through your blood, setting every inch of you aflame and pulling a shameless moan from the depths of your throat. 

Through the haze of your desire, you feel Loki gently squeeze your hips. “Ok?” he asks quietly. 

The laugh you release is short and strangled. “Y-yes! God, yes!” 

A wolfish smile curls across his face. You watch transfixed as he dips back between your thighs, never tearing his eyes from yours as he buries his tongue in your cunt. A volcano of pleasure erupts in your core, twisting through every inch of you with each skillful flick of his tongue. You groan, you whimper, you grip Loki’s curls so tightly that you’re surprised he isn’t howling from the pain. 

“Ugh…fuck!” you groan when he slips his hands beneath your ass to pull you closer. 

His mouth is warm and wet and talented - god, it’s talented - and when his tongue begins to lap over your clit you can’t help but buck and grind against his face. You feel him hum appreciatively against your cunt, and he swirls his tongue firmly over your swollen clit once, twice more. 

“Loki!” you whimper. “Fuck, Loki, keep doing that! Please!” 

He’s only too happy to grant your request. His tongue traces swirls and patterns endlessly against your clit. It’s just enough pressure and just the right rhythm that the coil in your stomach quickly begins to wind tight. Every expert flick and swirl of Loki’s tongue is like diesel to a flame, setting your core alight until you’re completely engulfed by him.

If you died right now, you would greet death happily. 

Loki continues to lap at your cunt like a man starved, and when your back arches off the bed, he slips his hands further beneath your back to clamp you firmly against his warm mouth. It’s pleasure like you’ve never experienced - white hot and all consuming - and before long you’re balancing beautifully on the edge. 

“Loki…Loki, please…I’m…m’ gonna come!” you say, unsure if it’s a warning or a plea. 

The first tendrils of your release are licking through your core and each tiny cry that passes from your lips only encourages the god between your legs. The warm wetness of his tongue laps perfectly at your clit, making stars begin to dance at the edge of your vision, but when he moans against you - a deep, satisfied rumble of sound - you know you’re gone. 

Your orgasm engulfs you suddenly and without warning. The force of it sends your eyes rolling in your head and your hands tangling in Loki’s hair like a vice. His name leaves your lips in a scream to the heavens, and his head doesn’t stop bobbing between your legs until you’re panting and boneless on top of the mattress. 

Amidst the lavender haze that has settled around you like a favourite blanket, you feel Loki press a soft kiss to your still sensitive clit. It makes you jolt and pulls a strangled sound from deep in your throat, but then his thumbs are drawing lazy circles over your hip bones. 

I’m here. 

His lips begin a slow path from between your thighs, pressing gently and haphazardly along your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. He kisses across your collarbone and dips below your chin, making sure not to miss even an inch of your throat. 

Never in your life have you felt more desired.

“Exquisite,” he murmurs before his lips find yours. "Worthy of the gods.” He kisses you deeply and the taste of you is still heavy on his tongue. It’s electrifying and only serves to reignite the flames of arousal that he’s only just quenched. 

You can’t help but giggle against his lips and reluctantly break his kiss. “The only god I want is you,” you say quietly, cupping his face in your hands. 

He gazes down at you silently, looking as though you’ve just placed the secrets of the universe in his hands. It’s both endearing and heartbreaking - that he’s struggling to believe he’s the one you want - and it fills you with a renewed purpose to ensure this man never goes to sleep feeling unwanted. 

You tug him back down until his lips are back on yours. His kiss is slower this time, languid, as though he wishes to use every last second to commit the taste of you to heart. 

A god drunk on the taste of his mortal. 

“Touch me. Please,” he rasps, breaking from your lips for only a second. 

It’s a plea you’re only too happy to answer. Slowly - because you want to enjoy every last inch of this man - you slide your hands from where they’ve been resting on his biceps. You marvel at the broadness of his shoulders and drink in the smooth expanse of his muscled back. Lightly, you trace your fingertips along the hollow of his spine, delighting in how he shivers beneath your touch.

But it’s nothing compared to the deep, appreciative moan that tumbles from his lips when your hands once again squeeze the smooth swell of his ass. 

You laugh into his mouth and rest your arms back across his shoulders. “You are so beautiful,” you whisper, raising a hand to brush some stray curls behind his ear.

He catches your wrist before it can rest your hand back on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the centre of your palm. “You, my dove, are a treasure amongst mortals,” he says softly, all while positioning himself between your welcoming thighs. His forehead finds yours at the same time his cock nudges teasingly against you. “Let me pleasure you, darling, please. Let me give you every part of me.” 

Easily, you wrap your legs around his waist where they fit like a missing puzzle piece. “If you don’t, I’ll be very upset,” you tease him. 

He grins widely so widely at you that the corners of his eyes crinkle endearingly. “Well, we certainly can’t have that,” he replies, and slowly, you feel him begin to ease into you. 

You inhale deeply as the blunt head of his cock slips inside you. It’s barely anything at all but already your head is rolling back on the pillow and your eyes are slipping shut. You knew Loki would feel good, but nothing could have prepared you for just how good. 

You want to lose yourself in the feel of his body in yours, but before you can even draw breath two cool fingers are on your chin, encouraging you to tilt your head forward. 

“Keep your eyes on me, my darling,” he commands softly and you instantly snap them open. “Good girl.” 

His eyes don’t leave yours as he eases himself fully inside you, giving you all the time you need to adjust. He’s big, and every added inch has you clenching joyously around him if only to hear the groans that spill from him each time you do. 

“Fuck,” he groans, dipping his head between his shoulders when you clench particularly hard. “Little vixen. Beautiful little menace,” he continues, dropping haphazard kisses to your cheeks and chin. 

When you can take no more of him he coaxes your hand from where it’s been clamped to his shoulder, clutching it tightly in his own as though he fears you’ll melt beneath the cotton sheets. 

You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” you assure him, giving his hand a squeeze. 

A quiet puff of laughter escapes him and he dips his head. You see the sheepish look that settles across his handsome face and your heart swells for him, for this man who has known more loss than many would deem fair. 

You’ve barely left his side these past few months, but still he fears that he’ll lose you. 

“I know,” he answers softly, sounding unmistakably embarrassed. “Forgive me. Sometimes…sometimes I still struggle to believe that someone like you chose someone like me.”

Your free hand is instantly cupping his cheek and your thumb is caressing his flushed skin. Does he know that you feel the exact same way? “I will always choose you,” you tell him firmly. 

He hasn’t even been yours for a year, but you know with unwavering certainty that you would follow this man to the ends of the earth and beyond. 

Loki presses his cheek into your palm and leans in to steal another chaste kiss from your lips. “My darling mortal,” he murmurs with a roll of his hips that has you groan. “My beautiful girl.” 

You can’t look away as he expertly begins to build you up. You’re lost to the pretty gleam of his green eyes as they hold yours and how stray strands of ink black hair fall to frame his face; lost to the way his jaw falls slack when you roll your hips to meet his and clench around his cock; lost to how your name falls like spring rain from his lips, like it’s the only word he’ll ever need to know. 

The edge crests like a wave in your core within minutes, each ripple making you dig your heels into his ass in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, deeper. Your climax is bubbling white hot in the pit of your stomach, promising to drown you in pleasure like you’ve never known if you can just tip over the edge. 

“Loki…,” you cry, twisting a hand into his hair for leverage. “Loki…I’m ready…please!”

His hands grips yours like a vice. “Look at me,” he pleads, and your eyes quickly settle back on his. “Cum for me, my darling.” 

With five words, you go soaring off the edge. 

Your orgasm rips through you like a storm, each blinding wave of pleasure submerging you deeper until tiny white stars begin to dance at the edges of your vision. It’s all consuming and so powerful that it robs you of almost all your senses, though you’re vaguely aware of Loki burying his face in your neck as his own climax pulls him under. 

He’s ruined you for anyone else. 

As the final ripples of your release fade in the aftermath, you can hear Loki panting in your ear. You untangle your hand from his hair to stroke it and turn your head to press a light kiss to his temple. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out. It’s all you're capable of saying as you lie boneless on the bed, still basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm. 

“Fuck.” Loki echoes, rolling onto his back and bringing you with him. 

You burrow happily into his side and feel him drape an arm around your shoulders. His heartbeat is still thundering beneath your ear - something that makes pride blossom in your stomach. 

“Darling?” Loki speaks up after only a minute of silence. 

“Hmm?” you hum back, excitement already beginning to fizz between your legs. 

“I’d like to do that again…if you don’t mind.”

[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> I decided to write this more like a casual narration, for the storytelling vibes. Also, I might have tried to pull a "going back and forth in time like I'm S.King", so not everything will be crystal clear from the get-go. Hope you enjoy and feel free to interact!!!

-> I tried to keep the reader gender neutral, but the fem pov came more naturally to me, so I apologise if it takes away from the story for some of you.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Five Years by David Bowie

~ 1 ~

1979 Derry, Maine

A family of three moved to Derry, for the father's work. Maine has its fair share of factories and the average person here doesn't mind getting their hands dirty, if it means paying the bills.

You were twelve when your family settled in an amiable house in Witchham St.

You may be seventeen now and you may have embraced the Losers' Club almost like a parental figure... But that wasn't the case five years ago.

When you first moved to Derry, you were twelve.

It was that same year you attended the annual Derry Funfair -Pennywise's favorite time to wake up. How could it not be, with so many kids out after dark... The Derry Funfair. The perfect hunting ground for the entity. That fateful night, you saw him for the first time. You call IT a 'he' because in the form of a clown, IT feels like a 'he'.

The air at the funfair was thick with the smell of popcorn, sugar... and something faintly metallic. As you walked through the crowd, laughter rang out around you, along with the loud music coming from the speakers far above your head.

You spotted the Ferris Wheel turning slowly against the darkening sky, each of its blinking lights reflecting in the deepening puddles scattered along the path. The Carousel line was snaking on that very path. You always loved how the painted horses glistened under the soft glow of the carnival lights...

Fed up with a group of cocky twenty-somethings, you slipped away from the fair, eventually finding yourself by the bridge for a moment of peace. You liked the breeze and the faint smell of night-blooming flowers. You still do.

It was quiet, until you suddenly heard a distinct sort of giggling. You also spotted a single, shiny red balloon floating toward you, bobbing against the wind. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled. Chills ran down your arms. Instinct warned you that something was very wrong.

That night, in your rush to escape and flee back to the fair, you left your hairbow at the bridge.

Later, as you looked out the window of your father's car on the ride home, you looked back and saw him -an enormous figure in a dusty, faded clown suit, watching you, waving slowly at you. His face was ghostly pale, almost like porcelain, with eyes that gleamed a strange and unsettling shade of amber. Those eyes seemed knowing, as if they could peel back every thought and fear inside you. A painted smile stretched across his mouth, far too wide and framed by rows of teeth that looked far too many, like something out of a nightmare. Wisps of reddish-orange hair framed his face, stiff and wild. The ruffles around his neck were yellowed with age, their edges fraying.

The suit itself was old, streaked with grime. Large, oversized pom-poms lined the front in an even row. And yet, despite his faded, worn appearance, there was something disturbingly vibrant about him. It was as if he wasn't really standing but rather waiting -waiting for you to wave back at him.

Even from the safety of the car, a chill had crept through you, and somehow you knew that he was still watching long after the car had turned, his gaze following you all the way home.

That night, when you woke up thirsty from all the popcorn you'd had at the fair, you wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. There, neatly placed beside the sink, was your lost hairbow -the same one you'd bitterly cried over after realizing it was missing.

Two days later, you returned to the fair with your parents. You felt happy. You were carefree. You were stupid. You couldn't resist looking for the clown who had waved at you... You had a strange feeling that the balloon belonged to him... It was the shame shade as his painted lips. You also had another, even odder feeling that he had somehow been the one who returned your hair ribbon.

Eventually you found him. The clown waved again and this time, you waved back, even managing a smile. But when he extended an unnaturally long arm, gesturing you to come closer, you were smart enough to keep your distance. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his voice, soft and coaxing, whispered your name.

Strangely, your parents didn't seem to notice him, neither that day nor the first time you'd seen him...

It was July. You didn't see the clown again until early autumn, right around the time you started feeling nervous about your new school.

That summer, he haunted your dreams night after night. They'd start innocently enough, not like full blown nightmares -you'd find yourself back at the fair, wandering through empty stalls. The colors were brighter -somehow too bright- and the air too thick. Then, he would appear. A clown in the distance, his wide smile aimed straight at you. You'd try to move, to turn away, but somehow, your feet kept inching closer.

In those dreams, he told you his name -Pennywise-, his favorite color -red- and his favorite food -cotton candy-. You remember telling him that you knew he was lying, that he wasn't just any clown. After that, the dreams stopped.

1984 Derry, Maine

You think back to all that as you blankly stare at the pages of your math book, you think back to what belongs in the past, but your mind drifting off to five years ago is more than justified.

People in town are noticing things these days, though no one says it out loud. There are hushed conversations about kids going missing -George Denbrough included-, strange sightings near the sewers, and that eerie feeling you get walking through Derry alone.

The old-timers say things aren't right this time, that it feels different somehow. You overhear a few whispers that maybe this time, it's sticking around longer. And the worst part is that you know why. You know why even better than your younger friends do...

Since last autumn, you've gotten close to Bev Marsh. She sees you as the older sister she never had. Bill lives right across the street. You babysat him and his little brother, Georgie, over the summer. But since Georgie's death in the Fall, you and Bill have drifted apart. Stanley… well, he may or may not have a crush on you. You know him through Bill -he's a good kid. Eddie Kaspbrak, same way, also through Bill. Thank God he gets some fresh air with his friends -you've heard his mom isn't the easiest. Then there's Ben, your reading buddy from the library. Richie Tozier? You two got into a fight once, over which Led Zeppelin song is the best. And Hanlon, he nearly knocked you over with his bike the first time you met.

Another remarkable mention? Henry Bowers. He is a year younger than you. Sure, the guy's a bully, but oddly enough he and his friends never caused you any trouble. And I say 'oddly enough', in the same way Derry's misfortunes oddly enough never seem to touch you. The bad luck that hangs over this town, the accidents, the disappearances, even the craziness... it's as if you've been given an unspoken pass, a quiet immunity no one else seems to have. Even when trouble looms close, you remain untouched, like some silent pact with the shadows in this place.

However, it's not just the gossiping ladies at the grocery store, or the old wise granddads who enjoy sitting on their porches, that made your mind wander to the past with their words.

As of late, your dad started locking the doors at night without explanation and your mom seems anxious, checking the windows like she expects something -or someone- to be watching. They'd never talk about it, but you can tell they sense it too... The whole town feels off, like there's something lurking beneath the surface. Sometimes, you catch a flash of red in the distance or hear a faint giggle that seems to echo from nowhere. It happens often enough that it feels like more than coincidence.

You've started wondering if he's ever really gone at all.

Even your dreams are different now.

More vivid.

In them, you're back at that same funfair... but it feels hollow, like something out of a faded photo. Every creak of the Ferris Wheel, every rustle of the trees ...sounds wrong. Sometimes, you see him waiting by the bridge, his head tilted in that unnatural way. His smile is sharper and more dangerous, as if he's been waiting all this time, keeping a part of you trapped there. You always wake up shaking, heart pounding in your ears.

The worst part is that the closer you get to waking, the darker the dreams grow.

In last night's one, Pennywise had held his gloved hand out to you, as if inviting you closer. You had felt the weight of his gaze, pulling you in despite everything inside you screaming to run. You started to remember that he's taken kids before, that he leaves things behind as markers -ribbons, scraps, things no one else notices... And then had woken up gasping for air.

No matter how much you try to shake it off, the feeling lingers, leaving you wondering if he's still out there, watching you, just as he was five years ago.

For you, fear twisted into something almost exhilarating five years ago... thanks to all those fleeting moments of intimacy when he would whisper secrets, just for you. It was wrong and you know that, but there was a thrill in the danger he represented. You think about the stories the others tell, how they shudder at the thought of him -of IT- while your heart races at the memories of the laughter, of the games. It's a longing that gnaws at you, even as you wrestle with the dread of his return.

It was easier to just forget before, but now the thought of him returns like a shadow. As you flip the pages of your stupid math book, you wonder if he's standing outside your house right now, waiting for you to come back to him, just as you've secretly wished for him to do all these years. Because, it's true, there's a twisted part of you that misses him.

When the Losers share with you Bill's and Ben's theories about IT and how IT came to be, you can't help but recall how Penny would laugh, a sound that echoed like a melody in the chaos of your childhood, dancing on the edge of terror. His voice, with its playful cadence, would weave stories that made the mundane feel magical. You remember how you'd lean in, drawn by an irresistible urge, despite the way your heart raced and your instincts screamed to flee.

Even the memories of those long, shadowy nights away from the comfort of your bed, punctuated by the pulse of adrenaline, stir something within you -an inexplicable yearning for the connection you shared, however dark it was.

You close the book since there's no way you can concentrate on your homework now and instead, you settle on washing the dishes.

Despite everything, beneath that longing lies the heavy weight of guilt and sorrow. 'Penny' killed Georgie and that truth looms over every fond memory you have with him. This is the part you feel compelled to remind yourself: he's a killer, a predator.

To any onlooker, all they would see is a broken girl, haunted by a lost childhood and a shadowy figure that once made her feel alive and seen. You know better than anyone that the line between fear and fascination is a thin one, and that's a truth you'll have to grapple with...

...in the chapters to come.

masterpost☁️

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Tags; @satubby @sketchist-art

[kindaasrikal]

I got bored so now I’m slapping you all with Lloyd headcanons from someone who percieves him as a stupid teenager. Yippe.

Lloyd, despite everything, is the BEST when it comes to money. Especially with negotiations. If the original price of something is ‘unfair’ to Lloyd, he will make sire that price of 300 drops down to 20 bucks. No one understands how he does it, least of all Ronin who feels like he just got robbed of 280.

Lloyd’s hair is naturally blonde, the same shade as Wu’s, whose hair was exactly like Lloyd’s grandfathers, the Fsm. Misako, Garmadon, and Wu all already knew that Lloyd got the blonde from the Fsm, but Lloyd, oh poor innocent dumb 10/15 year old (early seasons, so right after the tea and after they met Misako) Lloyd, had a crisis over it. After finding out Misako and Wu were almost a thing, and having no idea how the Fsm looks like, he waddled over to Wu one night, tears in his eyes, and asks his uncle why he has blonde hair. Wu, not thinking much of it, was prepared to start explaining science to him as well as show a picture of the Fsm. Until, he saw the rhetorical worry and the accusation in Lloyd’s eyes.

“Ah…nephew. What are you really asking me right now?…”

“Wu…Garmadon is my dad, right?????” And Lloyd’s about to start sobbing. Wu had to sit him down, explain he would never, and bombard Lloyd with photo’s of the Fsm and young Garmadon, who looks exactly like Lloyd. Safe to say that the next day Zane began teaching Lloyd everything he should’ve learnt in school. Specifically science.

Lloyd, after losing his element by almost dying, learnt how to manually make his eyes glow. So sometimes it’s a dim light, other times he rivals a flash light. He loves using it in staring contests, he cackled the first tike he used it on Jay who yelped back and couldn’t see anything other than a weird shadow light thing for the rest of the day. Jay then bribed Zane to do that to Lloyd, who learnt his lesson to only ever flash his eyes at Kai.

Lloyd used to read fanfiction on Wattpad years ago in Darkley’s, so sometimes when he’s captured or in a situation, he starts narrating like a 14 year old girl with a crush on BTS/Harry Styles/One Direction. “My glowing green emerald eyes stared deeply into the abyss, hoping someone, anyone would come save me…and slowly, as my lean and strong body wiggled for freedom, I saw Fritz Donnegan-” “LLOYD I SWEAR WHEN WE GET OUT-”

Lloyd knows how to tap dance. To doom.

Once, Lloyd tried to be Spider-Man by using his element to make green lasso’s or smth. Little did he know he almost blew up half of Ninjago city when everything he grabbed with them started blowing up. You learn something new everyday. Though, the Commissioner didn’t like that excuse all that much.

Lloyd enjoys growing his extras two arms out and then hanging off of Cole’s back like how baby’s do with the baby carriers. He didn’t like that comparison all that much, Kai.

Lloyd is the type of person to do things so reckless, especially when it comes to emotionally attached villains. He will happily cuss out his dad when he’s on a oni rampage, yes he will go out and have coffee with Harumi, the girl who is knows to all of Ninjago city as the quiet one and call her “Salumi” the whole time, yes he will summon Morro and tell him all the cool stuff he did as the real green ninja, yes he will visit Pythor and give him snake food as a present. All of them are concerned and/or annoyed.

Not many people realised how much Lloyd looked like Misako until he wore her glasses as a joke. She started lecturing him about how bad his eye sight could get if he kept doing that, and all he said was “I’m not even human, i don’t count.”

Once Lloyd went to a place that prides itself for its inclusivity, and then had no idea if he should go to the mens bathroom, the dragons bathroom, or the oni’s bathroom. After taking a peak into the latter two, he quickly decided the mens bathroom is safer. Much safer. He dragged Nya to help him complain to the restaurant about there being no dragoni bathrooms around here and got free food out of it. So worth the embarrassment of saying “How am i supposed to reach the toilet??? HOW????”

[blakbonnet]

*DRUM ROLL* This AOTW is the podfic edition of our beloved weekend celebration of great artists in this fandom, and our featured artist this week is none other than @lindie-kninjaknitter ✨ If you're a lover of podfics, you've definitely heard at least one of Lindie's 265 fics either on your commute or because their voice is just so calming. Lindie also agreed to answer some questions for me:

Let's start with the technical: what are the programs you use to create your lovely podfics?

I use GarageBand to record with a ShureMV7 microphone, and I use Audacity for processing and post on SoundCloud.

How did you get into podficcing? Is this the first fandom you've tried it for?

I got into podfic making I knew what a podfic was. The story “No One Would Riot For Less” by sacrificethemtothesquid was a retelling of season one from Ed’s POV. I couldn’t put it down. So I recorded into the Voice Memos on my phone so I could take it with me on walks. When I found out that this was something that people do, I asked the author for permission to post and they said yes, and with the encouragement of some generous kind pirates in the comments I recorded more.

What made you fall in love with narrating stories?

This is the only fandom I’ve recorded although after I did a few stories, I auditioned for some books on audible and have recorded two stories there. It was not as rewarding or enjoyable as recording fanfiction. I love that the audio out there helps people in the ways it does. Folks tell me they listen while they do boring tasks or enjoyable art or their commute. I feel like I get to sit in the corner of a room in so many peoples lives, reading these awesome stories and it makes me very happy.

Any tips for beginners who wants to give podficcing a shot?

Tips for beginners! There are some good resources on AO3, the sapphires project, tree change project… These were designed to try to support new podfic makers as well as get those stories to audio. But I think the most important thing is find a story you want to live in! Something you really, really love, and then record it on your phone or whatever you have. I didn’t have a microphone until I started Hell or High Water.

Sound quality wise the two big things you need to do are to get your voice through a recording device and onto your DAW (digital work station – mine is GarageBand) While at the same time, eliminating other noises as much as possible. Echo is not your friend so a bathroom is your worst option… a place with soft walls blankets carpet on the floor in a quiet corner works great. Or a closet.

What is your favourite podfic that you've narrated?

My favorite podfic is which ever one I’m working on right now! There are some I am particularly proud of the vocal performance. Throat G.O.A.T. stands out… Constellationism, Baddy Zaddy have such sense of place! Captive of the Pirate King was the first one in which I really felt part of a community. I’ve made… 260 so far… each one was my favorite as I worked on it!

What are your personal challenges when it comes to narrating podfics?

I always want to do more than I can reasonably actually record. In choosing one it means I’m unchoosing several others.

I have dyslexia… sometimes I cannot get into the flow of reading which is frustrating.

There are some topics and materials I find difficult to narrate. Often that discomfort is offset by many other things that I love about a story and so I will narrate them anyway.

When I am approaching difficult material, I do a lot of journaling. I take breaks. I record sentences in pieces, then stitch it together and I am pretty sure you can’t tell in the finished recording.

We have a wonderful community of narrators who are there to listen and help each other with things like this.

Why OFMD? 🥹

Why OFMD? I think the underlying story of figuring yourself out later in life really appeals to me. I see myself in many of the characters, Ed, Stede, Jim, Izzy, Lucius… This story and the crew have really helped me understand myself better… feel less broken? (Chapter 25 baby!!!) feel less of an outsider? To recognize that parts of myself that I’ve had to tone down my whole life are worthy of being loud about.

Please head on over to @ofmdlovelyletters to leave your love for Lindie 💕

[lace-coffin]

Hello! Could you please write something about The Collector (Asa Emory) who falls madly in love with fem!reader who lives a very lonely life? At first the man begins to stalk the reader, but one day he still decides to kidnap her and brings her to his den in order to give her a happy life that she truly deserves. Thank you so much!🦋🌺💖

Asa Emory x lonely!fem!reader

Requests are open!

I really hope you like this! Thank you a bunch for the request I love writing for this silly little guy !

You could try convince yourself that your life wasn’t mundane but…let’s be honest. It’s the same in and out, wake up, drag yourself to uni running on a cup of shitty instant coffee, try keep your eyes open and focus on said lecture, grab something quick to eat on the way home and then rot in bed until it’s time to sleep and start the cycle all over again.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends, well not many but that’s beyond the point. You just don’t see each other much, always busy with university or work, god knows you don’t have the energy to meet up on your free days anyway. Keeping up relationships was always a struggle for you and it felt easier to just quietly drift.

Despite this you still get lonely, it can be an isolating existence when the only people you interact with daily are your lecturer and maybe the shop staff. Unfortunately narrating to yourself at home doesn’t count as company.

Little did you know that your lecturer had taken interest in you, he didn’t really have reason to in your mind, but to Asa you were different, reclusive and usually quiet, didn’t answer many questions but usually knew the answers when asked.

You stood out to him despite your best efforts to blend into the background noise of the class. Asa loves to dissect people like you, he finds there’s often more under the surface than you expect, maybe a reason for their timidness, or an unexpected shady social life. This is why Asa is currently keeping a good distance between you as you go about your day, lurking just far enough as not to raise suspicion but close enough to study you like a bug under a lens.

This was not the case for you. Asa couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, instead of some shady back alley business or home drama he just witnessed a depressingly mundane day. Maybe you would meet a friend after uni? Maybe you would come home to a lover? Maybe you would have a fun hobby? None of those things.

Asa watched through the blinds as you sling a microwave meal in and slouch at the table, resting your head on the cheap wooden surface and groaning in defeat. To be honest Asa was bored out of his mind, having been trailing you for the entire evening and witnessing nothing of interest. After you lay in bed and start having some kind of breakdown, Asa thinks he’s seen enough, deciding to leave.

Later in the evening Asa can’t stop wondering about you, surely you can’t be content living like that, a young women like you should be in your prime years, eating at cute cafe’s with your friends and partying on the weekends, right? At least that’s what Asa thinks the 20 somethings are doing these days, he’s to old for this.

This won’t do, it’s not like you’re an unpleasant person, always an angel in his lectures but keeping to yourself, the way you move to put your hand up to answer questions but pull it back in shyness is endearing to Asa. Sometimes he asks you anyway because he feels you deserve to be heard.

After a few weeks and a couple more days of watching you, you wake up contorted into a box. Fantastic. You go through the motions as all captives do, the hysterics, crying, pleading, fighting and bolting. Usually this part is the most inconvenient for Asa. He’s never threatened by it, knowing well that he’s the one in control. With you he can’t help but want to coo and tell you everything will be ok if you’re good for him. Maybe he’s getting soft. Or maybe you just have that effect on him.

Time passes, a few months maybe, and things are better. Your body has softened out a little from your masters insistence on you eating good balanced food, a healthy glow in your cheeks and a little extra fat on your curves. You still attend lectures at the uni only now you’re arriving with Asa and parting ways until class starts, not wanting to raise any suspicion. It turns out it’s a lot more helpful to just have your tutor at home if you get stuck with work, Asa loves teaching you anyway, getting to talk about his special interest to his favourite pet? Beautiful.

On your free days you visit restaurants and events together, the way your face lights up when you try a new yummy food or find a cute trinket tugs at your owner’s heart. Sometimes you think about how you could just run now and not look back, easily lost in the sea of people at the market, however the idea no longer appeals like it did months ago. Given the choice you wouldn’t want to leave anyway, tied to your master so deeply by now. Call it love or Stockholm syndrome, you don’t care anymore, your days finally feel more like a new opportunity and not a burden. You look forward to weekends again, Asa jokes an old man like him isn’t the best company but you wouldn’t want to spend the time with anyone else.

This is how it should be, how it should’ve always been. Asa thinks, as he unclasps your collar for the night. enjoying the pleasant hum you let out as he massages your neckline, rubbing his coarse hands over it gently, tracing the faint red lines the display of his ownership left behind. “Let’s get you to bed cricket” Asa says softly, scooping you up and depositing you onto your shared king bed. You waste no time in snuggling into his soft fuzzy tummy once he’s stripped off his day clothes and settled into bed. With one last chaste kiss to the forehead Asa leans over and turns off the lamp, draping his arms over you. “Goodnight cricket, I love you” “night sir, love u” you mumble back, already half asleep.

[cursedappendage]

Slay the Princess Extras(TLQ, TSM, Echo) in Japanese

<<Vessel Names Part 1(Chapter I & II + Razor III & IV) <<Vessel Names Part 2(Chapter IIIs) <<Part 3(Narrator, Princess, Voices)

OK So, I touched on the Narrator last post, but as we know, His true identity is actually that He's an

Echo エコー[Ekoo] (Echo)

Again, English word. He is what's left of the guy who made

The Long Quiet 永遠のうつろ[Eien no Utsuro] (Eternal Hollow)

永遠(Eien) means eternity, forever. うつろ can mean cavity/void/hollow, like the physical endless space of nothingness of the Long Quiet. But it can also mean something blank/empty/vacant/hollow, in reference to expression, voice, heart, stare, etc. Like how the Long Quiet's character blankly stares at the Princess with "hollow eyes(うつろな目)" in the Princess and the Dragon. People can be described with having a blank face as well(うつろな���), which I assume TLQ usually has on. In the Heart of the Shifting Mound, when asking the Princess what she'll call you, the harsh Princess will call you "Hero", the JP version keeping that with 勇者(yuusha). But the soft Princess shortens your god name "The Long Quiet" into just "Quiet", to which the Voice of the Hero responds "I guess that's always been us, hasn't it?" In the JP version, she shortens 永遠のうつろ(Eien no Utsuro) to just うつろ(Utsuro), again, meaning blank/hollow. The Long Quiet uses the first person pronoun 僕(boku), in similar fashion to the Hero, Broken, Opportunist, and Hunted. Out loud to the Princess, he refers to her with 君(kimi, "you"), which has far too many nuances depending on context. But to name a few, it can be used to someone of lower status(like a condescending boss to an employee), between people considered close, and in writing to give more literary/poetic feel. Also may be associated with masculine language, although not exclusively masculine.

Ok your other half

The Shifting Mound 変化する塊[Henka-suru Katamari] (Changing Mass)

変化(Henka) means change/transformation. It's also the word used when the Narrator says she is the concept of Transformation itself. 塊(katamari) means lump, or mass, I'm guessing this is their translation for "mound". Though 塊 can also refer to a group/crowd(of people), which definitely fits the Shifting Mound's appearance. In a similar fashion to the Adversary, EotN, Fury, and Wraith, the Shifting Mound uses 1st person 私(watashi) and 2nd person お前(omae), that + her argument style, she can come off as demeaning and "above it all". When the vessels speak in her arguments, they use their respective pronouns. Also in the "leave with the Shifting Mound as gods" ending, when she says "I love you", the text is in English. The font isn't even the same as the English version, she just says "I love you." in English. I'm not sure the significance of it, cuz in the other endings like the "Leave with Princess(heart of shifting mound)" endings, the "I love yous" are translated "愛してる(aishiteru, "I love you")", "私も愛してる(watashi mo aishiteru, "I love you, too.") So I don't know why TSM specifically says it in English.

Ok, I don't remember if there was anything else I was gonna type. Soooooo I guess that's it for now. If y'all wanna know something specific about the JP translation like a line or joke or anything just lemme know and I'll try and find it/explain it.

<<Vessel Names Part 1(Chapter I & II + Razor III & IV) <<Vessel Names Part 2(Chapter IIIs) <<Part 3(Narrator, Princess, Voices)

[jessaerys]

okay so i'm only about a quarter into twilight (bella just went on that first la push trip so jacob is imminent) but so far it's like... it's good? i mean not life-changingly good but not as terrible as people make it out to be, prose-wise. it's certainly better written than a whole lot of YA fiction. the banter between edward and bella is clever. bella's narration is funny. it is sufficiently atmospheric, and it has this air of quiet old soul wistfulness that i really like -- it doesn't feel like edward and bella have no personality, just that their personalities are equally quiet, if that makes sense. they're boring people, which is kind of cute. BUT. it reads like a first draft. there's so many bits here and there that with a good re-write could have been much tighter and therefore more impactful, more engaging, even beautiful actually. it's good bones and talent with a whole lot of trimming needed which is exactly the kind of writing i love to edit so i'm listening to it going ohh you didn't need that sentence there. this scene could have ended halfway through. why don't we turn this into a cold opening. can we make this description more ambiguous. the way edward's mood swings are written is really annoying me because i know what meyer is going for and that it's meant to be a unsettling, but the way he's written makes him come across as kind of psycho. what i'm saying is i could have fixed twilight. i'm shaking the bars of my cage sorry i was 11 years old in 2005 stephanie meyer i should have been there for you

[heliza24]

Daniel, Armand, and Keats???

Ok so the incredibly grainy footage of the new teaser has me spiraling! Devils minion on screen! But even more exciting, is Armand describing himself as “easeful death”, presumably to Daniel. Ok Rolin Jones, listen up. I don’t know a ton of literature by heart by I WAS a depressed and then chronically ill teen and early twenties person, who identified maybe a little too hard with romantic poet John Keats. Some of his poems are permanently tattooed on my brain. So I see what the writers are doing here. “easeful death” is from Ode to a Nightingale. The full line is: “Darkling I listen; and, for many a time/I have been half in love with easeful Death”. I mean. Come on.

I reread the poem after watching the trailer last night, and it’s actually SUCH a clever reference. It could practically be written by Daniel about Armand. We already know the writers room is familiar with and willing to reference other classic poets (Emily Dickinson absolutely is a vampire) so I think this is 100% intentional.

The narrator of the poem is tired of the difficulties of life and is longing for death; he speaks to the nightingale as a kind of immortal figure who is free from all cares. He is able to momentarily accompany the nightingale, at least mentally, as it flies and forget all troubles, but must come back to earth by the end of the poem. It’s pretty easy to read this as Daniel talking about Armand.

In fact, the first thing the speaker longs for is not death or the nightingale, but wine to take his mental pain away.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been

         Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,

Tasting of Flora and the country green,

         Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!

O for a beaker full of the warm South,

         Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,

                With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

                        And purple-stained mouth;

         That I might drink, and leave the world unseen

And we know that Daniel was numbing himself with drugs when he first met Louis and Armand. In fact the voiceover in the trailer almost feels like a pitch to Daniel; Armand is saying “I’m better than the best drug you’ve ever had”, effectively.

The speaker is determined to forget what the lucky nightingale (or Armand) “hast never known”:

The weariness, the fever, and the fret

         Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;

Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,

         Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;

                Where but to think is to be full of sorrow

The nightingale doesn’t know about the trials of living and aging, just like Armand. The speaker wants to forget about the inevitable “palsy shakes” that arrive with age. which could easily be a reference to what we now diagnose as Parkinson’s Disease.

At this point in the poem, the speaker tells the nightingale that he will join him in forgetting life not with the help of “Bacchus and his pards” (wine) but with “posey” (poetry). Which makes me think of Daniel using his writing to get closer to the vampires.

The fact that the speaker calls the nightingale “Darkling”! I mean what a perfect name for Armand. In fact I think this whole section is just perfectly about a vampire if you want it to be:

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time

         I have been half in love with easeful Death,

Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,

         To take into the air my quiet breath;

                Now more than ever seems it rich to die,

         To cease upon the midnight with no pain,

                While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad

                        In such an ecstasy!

         Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—

                   To thy high requiem become a sod.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!

         No hungry generations tread thee down;

The voice I hear this passing night was heard

         In ancient days by emperor and clown

Armand was not born for death; he’s seen many an emperor and clown and in fact been both (leader of the coven, pretending to be Rashid). There’s also an emphasis on the nightingale’s song. I don’t know if Armand will be a musician at all in the show, but he and the coven are definitely performers.

In the last stanza, the speaker comes back to himself. He knows that he does not get to escape the burden of life for the ease of death, or at least not yet. It makes me wonder if Daniel will eventually turn down the gift at some point in the devils minion timeline. We know that he rejects Louis' mocking offer to give him the gift in the Dubai timeline.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell

         To toll me back from thee to my sole self!

Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well

         As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades

         Past the near meadows, over the still stream,

                Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep

                        In the next valley-glades:

         Was it a vision, or a waking dream?

                Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?

The last line and the confusion about whether the time spent with the nightingale is a dream or not makes me think of Daniel waking up from the dream of Polynesian Mary’s.

In summary, Rolin Jones what the fuckkkkk. I’m so so excited about this season and all the Armand/Daniel content we’re about to get.

Oh also, as a bonus, if you want to hear Ben Whishaw recite the entire poem, and you definitely do, here you go:

[gamebird]

Murderathin Rec List

Revised for fall of 2024

As compiled by the denizens of the New Tideland MB/G channel! The greatest hits of TMBD's most popular frenemy ship - the fics that got us into it, and the fics we made because of it. "PR" are quotes from us as we talked back and forth about what was awesome about the fic, or from AO3 comments. All works are complete except Enemies, Closer and If Statements.

The Long Emergency by murderbot Words: 56,866 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Trapped on the survey planet when the last emergency beacon fails, Murderbot and the PreservationAux team scramble to survive deadly fauna, cruel weather, scarce resources, and GrayCris's armed hunting parties. In a grueling ordeal spanning two planetary years, Murderbot becomes closer to its humans than it ever thought possible. PR: “the absolute ur-Murderathin fic”, “an absolute stunner”, “that’s the one that got me into the ship”, "This fic is amazing! Murderbot's voice and everyone's characterizations were so on-point, and all of the details of their survival on this planet and the action scenes were so well-fleshed out.", "The first MB/G fic on AO3!"

Recollection by murderbot Words: 30,753 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: SecUnit and Gurathin agree to be married, temporarily, for ease of travel during an assignment. After a violent encounter and a bad wormhole jump, they crash land on a habitable planet and discover their entire ship is suffering from amnesia. Nobody remembers anything from their past. The ship's records are badly scrambled. The planet is too far for anyone to reach safely. When Gurathin and SecUnit find the record that indicates they are married, they build a life together as marital partners, not knowing their union is based on a lie. PR: “I love pain”, “It absolutely broke me”, “still haunts me”, “wonderful”, " I'm so full of bittersweet emotions", "I was this close to crying for a few chapters, and the ending was perfect."

Enemies, Closer by Abacura, Gamebird, IHopedTheredBeStars, opalescent_potato, Rosewind2007, theAsh0 Words: 134,190 (WIP) Rating: Teen and Up Summary: When a Combat SecUnit with identical genetics to Murderbot is sent to Preservation Station to commit a massacre, the delicate balance between Murderbot, ART, and Dr. Gurathin shifts, putting all four of them on a collision course. PR: “a wonder and a delight”, “my favorite one”, "Rock-Paper-Scissors dom dynamics in which ART is the secret fourth option, Dynamite", "Can't wait for more!", "A monumental collaboration!"

Boots by opalescent_potato Words: 5,762 Rating: General Audiences Summary: Murderbot learns a little more than it wanted to about Gurathin's mysterious past. PR: “such a great, quiet study in emotional intimacy and shared trauma. Also has an absolutely amazing Oh. Oh no moment.”, "this feels like the realest depiction of poverty trauma I've ever seen in fanfic", "Info dumping as a love language. Learning self care from the most particular human."

No Peace/No Rest by IHopedTheredBeStars Words: 4,363 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Though Dr Gurathin eventually accepts the addition of SecUnit a.k.a. Murderbot to PreservationAux, and even assists in its recovery & rehabilitation after the corporate gunship debacle, he never warms up to it like the others do—at least according to our unreliable narrator, Murderbot itself! Let’s assume Murderbot is right this time. So what’s up with that?? This story takes place (chronologically) after Fugitive Telemetry and just before Network Effect. PR: “an excellent MB&G fic”, "So many fantastic ideas in here", "This is such a great look at grappling with the guilt of having taken a life, and being stripped of that comforting denial that it wasn't a person."

The Last Client by Gamebird Words: 70,290 (series) Rating: Explicit Summary: A series with the premise of 'What if GrayCris had attacked PresAux first instead of DeltFall?' In the first, Last Client Standing, Dr. Gurathin is the only PresAux survivor, with Murderbot protecting him from GrayCris' continuing efforts to eliminate them entirely. In the second, Who Guards the Guardian?, they return to Preservation where they must come to terms with how much they, and events, have changed. PR: “Gah! Gurathin and Sec having to navigate ALL the emotions. I’m… (no better way to say it) ded. I am ded. De d ded." "Man the image of Murderbot dragging itself along with no working legs almost this whole fic and still managing to fight off a good chunk of GrayCris." "So many emotional moments, happy, sad, bittersweet, as they worked through their grief and what they mean to each other."

Gurathin’s Side of the Story by Gamebird Words: 51,849 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: A retelling of The Murderbot Diaries from Gurathin's point of view. PR: “An incredible character study that adds so much depth to Gurathin. The reader falls in love with him every step of the way (and Murderbot does too)”, "There are so many moments where this story just drop-kicks me with how real it is.", "a lovely view into Gurathin‘s CR background, augments, and his soft belly under that armadillo shell."

Faking It For Real by Gamebird Words: 1,571 Rating: Explicit Summary: Murderbot does a bad job of pretending to be Gurathin's ComfortUnit on a mission, until it figures out how to be better at it. PR: “the one where everyone's playing it cool but the feet are paddling madly beneath the surface" "I know this is a cracky premise but it sure is hot!" "the sexy frisking is definitely hot" "HOT DAMN"

Boots by Gnomeskillet Words: 2,797 Rating: General Audiences Summary: "I'm going to fix your boots," he explained, talking to me like I was a small human child that didn't know anything. At least he kept his eyes on the floor while he did it. "They're a mess and if you want them to last longer, then you need to take care of them." PR: “this entire fic got me", "Omg who knew shoe shines could be so full of tension??", "This was sort of in kink no man's land, in between the barbed wire embankments of desire and fulfillment."

It Was Only A Kiss by Gnomeskillet Words: 2,102 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Frustrated and desperate, Murderbot hauls Gurathin into an alleyway and makes out with him in order to avoid Station Security. Hey, it has a 100% success rate in media! PR: “excellent”, “Incredibly sexy and very sweet.”, "Dom Murderbot absolutely wrecking Gurathin while not really knowing what the hell it's doing is my favorite flavor"

Pressing Down On Me, Pressing Down On You by Gnomeskillet Words: 1,061 Rating: Not Rated Summary: I was just thinking about MB pressing down on Gurathin's augments like how ART presses down on MB in the feed, and I like thinking about MB being tsundere about taking care of its least favorite augmented human. It doesn't LIKE Gurathin, he's just less annoying this way. PR: “ahhh yes this one was absolutely one of the ones that made me go OHHHH. It made me so invested in their relationship”, "Poor Gurathin doesn't know what he's getting into, good thing Murderbot is so nice XD", "I love the idea of cuddling in the feed."

Just to Suffer the Pressure by Chyoatas Words: 2,113 Rating: Explicit Summary: He was already out of breath when he let his hand press to his throat. (That hadn’t been in the original plan. This was already too close- too fraught. It was already embarrassing enough (and hotter for it, but he wouldn’t admit it.)) PR: “Okay we were all thinking it. There are not nearly enough fics where Murderbot erotically asphyxiates Gurathin.”, "this is insanely good holy shit", "unhinged screaming I can't form words, this is everything I want it to be"

Murderathin NSFW Zine Comic by Chyoatas Words: 1,069 Rating: Explicit Summary: My NSFW comic from the Murderbot Diaries NSFW Zine! Alternative text description of the comic is embedded in the images. PR: "So hot!", "sweet, naughty, and snarky", "So much thought went into this. The closer I look, the more details pop out at me!"

Purr by Rosewind2007 Words: 3,448 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: I saw a post by someone saying: “Wouldn’t it be nice if humans could just purr, like cats. You could let people know you were happy without talking about your feelings or anything...” And I thought: it’d be nice if Murderbot could purr. So, here you are. PR: “Ah yes, my favorite trope. Murderbot purring when it's happy!”, "MB your friends care about you!", "This was adorable and I loved it"

Sex Pollen by Rosewind2007 Words: 7,240 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Atypical human and para-human courtship behaviors and coitus triggered by xeno-floral microgameteophytes Abstract: Twenty four (24) subjects were exposed to xeno-floral microgameteophytes (XFM). Atypical behaviors were recorded by all but two (2). PR: “the yearning”, “I love watching Murderbot and Gurathin dance around each other in this. Both trying so hard to be normal and just internally yearning to be close to each other. The longing is so palpable!”

Bundling by Rosewind2007 Words: 18,348 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: It was a stupid accident. We’d identified the presence of space debris in this sector, including pieces large enough to deflect the course of a small transport; but my Risk Assessment Module was happily burbling in the low teens (it really needs replacing, but I’m quite fond of its optimism now) and ART had calculated the risk of an actual collision as approximately 1 in 159,753. But of course we were that one. And of course the client I was with would be that one.  PR: "And thereby, Murderbot, SecUnit, discovered it loved itself.", " A wonderful story", "That last line is just so perfect"

That Time I Got Drunk and Yeeted a Love Potion at a SecUnit by Rosewind2007 Words: 14,918 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: What it says on the tin. PR: “amazing, showstopping" "oh yess oh yess oh yesss" "Murderbean. Murderbaby. You're killing me ❤️❤️❤️ Ahhhhh the ending to this was so sweet and so perfect, I'm all up in my feelings now"

The Corporate and the Construct by beeayy Words: 87,919 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Bots and constructs have taken over the Corporate Rim. When PreservationAux is captured sneaking into AI-controlled space, someone must stay behind with the sophisticated bot-pilot that remembers a lot less than it thinks it does, and the rogue SecUnit with more anxiety and depression than anyone knows. PR: “my favorite AU”, “fantastic”, “An amazing AU. Great marriage of Fairy Tale elements with Robot Overlords.”, "This fic was such an amazing ride", "I had emotions and cried at the last chapter. Good job!"

I Hate The Way I Don’t Hate You by beeayy Words: 53,345 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Murderbot hates Gurathin, though the reason changes on a daily basis. PR: "I love this whole thing", "These two ridiculous assholes *always* end up meeting in the middle", "I love fake marriage fics  especially when it's enemies to lovers."

Wrinkles by beeayy Words: 1,405 Rating: General Audiences Summary: There is a disavantage to being a rogue SecUnit in the long-term. Gurathin helps Murderbot through it. PR: “'my face is falling off' will stay with me forever" "This is the sweetest! I love depictions of them in an established relationship where they are clearly happy together, but also true to their nature (AKA assholes)." "This is so fricking ardorable!!!!!"

ComfortUnit!Gurathin by beeayy Words: 29,278 (series) Rating: Mature Summary: Gurathin tries to keep a secret from Murderbot while on a mission in the Corporate Rim. Or, "Heartbreaking: Your Least Favorite Co-Worker Is Secretly Hot". PR: “honestly top tier ending lmfaoo, and top tier fic" "I loved this whole damn fic and you nailed the ending." "This story was loads of fun, and the chemistry between them was so effective!"

Maintenance Protocol by Abacura Words: 5,762 Rating: Explicit Summary: I’m worried about SecUnit. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught it making a face that looks like it's in pain. I worry that it isn’t taking care of itself, that without a cubicle, it needs maintenance that it isn’t telling us about. I wish it would tell me. I wish it would let me take care of it. I could take such good care of it. PR: “smoking hot, I wholeheartedly recommend”, "The maintenance was so perfect and then it was done and I figured so was the fic but holy fuck (literally)", "This is the good stuff. This is perfect."

Fuckboy Strategy by The_Onion Words: 6,203 Rating: Not Rated Summary: 'Can you know you don’t like something without trying it?' I'd texted Ratthi. He responded, 'Sure! But trying things out is always a good idea :D' which I am sure he would not have said if he’d known what I was talking about. // Murderbot explores idioms, the ethics of ghosting, and its own sexuality. PR: “Ah yes, my favorite trope. Murderbot being an absolute bull in the china shop of Gurathin’s heart.”, "so good and so funny i am beside myself", "made me laugh out loud"

Construct, Social by kiwisson Words: 1,852 Rating: General Audiences Summary: Late-night human behavior discussions with your favorite deadly weapon. PR: “the vibes are really good”, “Perfect tag is perfect: You Jerks Talk A Lot For People Who Hate Each Other”, “a fascinating example of the first tagged MB&G which shows many themes already emerging!”

Imperfect Reactions by xianvar Words: 1,324 Rating: Teen and Up Summary: It’s a normal evening with friends – easy laughter, Bharadwaj stopping by to chat, Gurathin and Murderbot sniping at each other, Murderbot letting Gurathin tease it… wait, what? PR: “exterior POVs are always SO good”, "there's so many little characterizations in this fic and its really delightful!", "Adorable!"

If Statements by the_moonmoth Words: 36,683 (WIP) Rating: Explicit Summary: Without a cubicle to reset its endocrine system, Murderbot goes into heat. Gurathin would normally be the last person it would turn to for the kind of help it now needs, but he smells so good. PR: “hot, sexy, omegaverse action! Full of luscious art, too!" "Oh my LORD joining the freak train because this is fantastic!" "Aaaaaaaaaah *scream* *squeeeal* asddsgdhfthfj"

Recharge Cycle by SeeMaree Words: 5,023 Rating: General Audiences Summary: Murderbot just needs a quiet, comfortable place to run a recharge cycle. PR: “the one with the slippers" "i love this!!! Asshole friendship my beloved. U write them so good im soft" "I can’t believe you’re making them actually TALK to each other lmfaoooo"

Mixed Signals by firefox49 Words: 6,099 Rating: Mature Summary: While Dr. Gurathin is repairing some of Murderbot’s circuits, Murderbot makes a discovery about itself. PR: “the one that blows my fuse every time" ""Ahh I love how secunit is just like. Sex is a competition and I am going to win it" " I am that "sickos" meme going *yes hahaha YES*"

Plus One by musicofthespheres Words: 14,587 Rating: General Audiences Summary: Murderbot needs Gurathin's help, but he's busy. Turns out he has... other friends? Besides Ratthi and Pin-Lee? That doesn't sound right. Murderbot needs to get to the bottom of this. PR: “Murderbot being indignant about Gurathin having other friends is a fave" "Awwwwr i loved this so much its definitely one of my new favorites!" "Ohhh I just adore this whole thing" "they’re such a great little grumpy team"

[pendwelling]

hello !!

I have been reading your content for a while and I really appreciate it especially your detailed answer to people questions I really like it 😄😄

That's why I want to ask my questions too☺️☺️

Hmmm so first , you know in chapter 805 yuseo called gain his Earth and in chapter 850 or close to it when yuseo knew his friends forgot about him ,he was having a breakdown 😭😭 and he said might even resent them for it but deep down he knew he can never hate his Earth forever 😭😭

Yeah so here yuseo only meant gain without Cedric?? So that means deep down yuseo has more affection and love gain more ? Cause I always thought he loves them both equally

Is gain maybe more important in the story thank Cedric? Cause I noticed that gain has many many POV in the story meanwhile Cedric having POV is very rare 😞 especially when yuseo left for his world almost all POVs were gain's ...so does that mean like she's 2mc after yuseo ?

I Know my questions may sound stupid but I actually care and notice these things while reading😅😅 like noticing that gain had also more screen time with yuseo than Cedric in the lastest chs 😅😅 that's why that thought occured to me

Hmm I have only another question ( sorry I talk too much but this novel really took my mind these days 😭😭 so I'm thinking about all kind of stuff) ... U know that Jesse suggested to yuseo to tell the people that they share a plate and yuseo accepted but Cedric refused? But eventually I didn't understand whether they did tell people that or just said that they were twins?

Cause honestly if they did do that wouldn't making a covenant with Cedric be quiet no possible since people know that they share plate

Honestly even now I think making a covenant might be really impossible for many reasons:

1/ yuseo already goes to his world and he spends most time there (he only spends two days in reister ) and the timeline is quite different?? Like a few days in his world are many months in reister??? Wouldn't that make him absent a long time??? When they become religious companions they can't be appart from each other a long time or they suffer like Fred and Aurelie right ? So I feel like yuseo wound not accept it

2/ when he becomes religious companion he can't share his ether with others (except gain maybe cause she and ced already have a connection ) it might be a dump reason but I feel yuseo would still want to help others with his ether especially Johann and future holy knight kids (Lynn and cerise)

3/ finally even if it's one sided yuseo and Jesse do share a plate so it would make it diffecult to form covenant cause Cedric emotions and thoughts will be shared to Jesse too ? It feels like he shared his plate with the two of them

So what do u think?

Man I really wrote a whole essay 😭😭😭

I'm sorry that u have to read through all of this 🥺🥺

And thanks for your answer in advance

Hello!!! Sorry late response 😭😭 I'm assuming you probably read more chapters ahead by now and might have gotten answers to your questions yourself, but I'll still give my own insights too haha

Anyhow—Yeah! Yeseo and Ga-in do indeed get some very notable moments during the later end parts of TWSB, but I personally think that the moments between Ga-in-Yeseo and Cédric-Yeseo are both equally spread out, and both with their own respective moments to shine, and sometimes all together and in different (equally important) ways. Cédric's POVs might not be as much in comparison to Ga-in's in certain moments, but (again personally) I find that this is because Ga-in's character and personality allows for certain scenes to be viewed and conveyed in much more appropriate ways than it could be in Cédric's. Cédric's POVs are also notably... dramatic. Intense (haha). Surprisingly poetic and heartwrenching at times, but it's always an elaboration of his inward emotional state, and not as much outward action.

Cédric is the kind of character whose internal narration is better when taken in small doses, especially because his unique perspective as a Crown Prince archetype (back in the 300s, for example, it was especially interesting to see Cédric's through outsider POVs and in an environment of—not equals, like with "Prince Jesse" and Lady Christelle and their other noble friends—but of commoners and soldiers who cannot interact with him as easily). His POVs are always very emotional (sometimes despite his outward actions seeming so abrupt or sudden or even "out-of-nowhere" if you havent seen his POV), and often related to his own psyche, his internal turmoil, the way relationships affect him personally and the childhood trauma that in turn affect how he goes about life and relationships, and even more particularly, Yeseo.

But as for the moments that you are talking about (800s+), in a way, it makes sense why we get more of Ga-in's perspectives. Both she and Yeseo, after all, are transmigrators who can both relate and understand on deeper levels the dilemma of having to leave one world for the other, and the struggles that come with this very unique experience. She's also undeniably WAY MORE emotionally intelligent than Cédric in this regard, and as the eldest, the noona of the trio, I think it was especially important for Ham Ga-in to have been the one taking the lead in this very emotional goodbye and see-you-later.

Yeseo can be thought of as the glue holding the three characters together, but Ga-in's role as the understated emotional pillar is also just as important and very vital to their dynamics as a whole!!!! 🥲

In the scene of 805, I think it's noteworthy that when Cédric and Ga-in are both leading Yeseo to the Paten, "walking him home," the way the two of them do so is very indicative of the roles they play in each others' lives and in this moment. Cédric holds Yeseo's hand with his right, leaving his dominant left hand free to wield the blade—physically and visibly demonstrating the silent support that Cédric is towards and provides for Yeseo. It should be noted that in all previous situations during fights where Cédric has had to carry Yeseo over his right shoulder, he always, ALWAYS, keeps his sword arm free to both fight and defend his partners. And even when he does have to give up the sword while fleeing with Yeseo over his shoulder, he'll have Ga-in under his sword arm as a "backup weapon" haha. This has been a recurring trend throughout the story, even when it's sometimes used in comedic scenarios, but it's a characteristic of his nonetheless that even the author acknowledged in one of their A/Ns xD (604 Munpia). BUT ANYWAY BACK TO 805—in contrast, Ga-in's support extends more to just supporting him with silent and strong gestures. She constantly talks to him, reaches out, reassures him, she appeases him with words and promises, speaking on both the behalf of herself AND of Cédric. She's the spokesperson for the two of them—her wishes are also Cédric's. If Cédric didn't feel the same way, he would have spoken up (heck, he probably wouldn't have been there in the first place lmao—him growing to care for both Yeseo and Ga-in is one of the most integral parts driving the story too, after all!)

This moment is very emotional, and Ga-in is the emotional anchor keeping them all together. I definitely would NOT say that she is more important than Cédric. They are BOTH EQUALLY very very important to Yeseo, and they both demonstrate their different outward ways of caring for and supporting him 🥹 In this specific situation, however, Ga-in's emotional outspokenness naturally takes the lead and gives Yeseo the more active verbal comfort that he needs. Had she not been there, I fear Cédric would have to deal with an emotionally crumbling Yeseo all alone haha—of course, that isn't to say that Cédric would just stand there and do nothing, but this guy is HELLA internally emotional but without the proper ability to dish out comfort the way Ga-in does. He just keeps it all inward. This situation was hard for all three of them combined, but Ga-in took the reigns and gave the final push.

She's the eldest! Their noona... She has to do her best, smile, and stay strong, because one guy is too soft-hearted, and the other guy is unexpectedly soft-hearted, too, so she must be the strong one and ease the mood. That has always been our Ga-in's specialty 🥹🥲

Ga-in is Yeseo's "Earth" because she's their anchor, the one who grounds them all—"my only rock and hill", as Ga-in once said in reference to own older sister.

Thus, we have Cédric with the unstaggering physical support and strength. Then, Ga-in with her vocal reassurances and emotional support. I have a LOT to say about 805, but anyhow, I think I made my point haha. It a brilliant chapter imo, and really displays the facets of CYC's relationship and dynamics, both inward and outward. Cédric does get his own moments with Yeseo later on too:

Most notably, off the top of my head, that scene in Chapter 917 where Yeseo visits home again with Cédric tagging along, where he presents Cerise to Hyunseo like "Ta-da~ It's our baby" as if they're two newlyweds presenting their daughter to the family for the first time 😭. OH and then in 898, where Cédric snuck into the Jung apartments and clumsily tried offering Yeseo, his family, and EVEN HIS DISTANT FAMILY 😭 all titles and riches and lands just so that Yeseo could permanently become Riester citizens and stay there with him and Ga-in... (Yeseo naturally puts his foot down and refuses lmao, but he appeases Cédric's worries by saying that Riester is still his second home, and that he has no intention of leaving them behind again BUT STILL OMG 😭)

Look. You gotta understand. Ga-in and Yeseo's relationship is so so meaningful and caring and sweet, but Cédric is always on a whole other level. This guy is so crazy about Yeseo, he's just disguising it under a stoic handsome face LMAO...

YEAH OML ANYWAY. NOW FOR THE HOLY PLEDGE/PLATE QUESTION—

For Pledge Concern #1, regarding the time differences between the TWSB world and the "IRL" world, if you continue reading (and I'm assume you might have? already read to that point by now since it's been a while since you sent this Ask wkdjsksk), you'll find that this issue resolves itself haha. I'm glad you took notice of this, however, because it is a concern that Yeseo HIMSELF also shares, even vocally too, back in Chapter 736 during a discussion with Jibril which started with Yeseo expressing relief that Jibril would be a good supporting figure for future-emperor Cédric (to which Jibril slapped back with basically "why would he need me when he's got you?"). Yeseo is so worried about hurting Cédric with the long-distance effects of a Covenant/Holy Pledge, but with time, this thankfully gets resolved 🥲🙌 Even the charas themselves kinda refer to his dimension-hopping being akin to something like "our family' daughter hopping to their new household (the one they married into)" LMAO. Yeseo could also leave Cédric (and perhaps Ga-in, if they go the double Pledge route) with a bunch of holy stones to soothe the soul ache, like what Frédérique and Aurélie have previously done, too.

As for Pledge Concern #2!!! Hahaha, that's a valid concern. I totally understand why you'd think Yeseo might want that, but it's also understandable why he would also choose the other. Yeseo is actually quite recipient to the idea of forming a Holy Pledge with Cédric—or at the very least, officially accepting the man's Covenant proposal and becoming his Religious Companion—but the only thing that held him back was the concern of the universal distances causing him pain. But with that now out of the way, suffice to say, there's now plenty of reason for Yeseo to no longer postpone the proposal. I feel I should also bring back Juliette/Julite Statia, who, historically, has been one of the (if not the only) recorded Priests to have supplied ether to two Holy Knights at once. Ga-in even referenced Julite's circumstances wayyy back in early-TWSB before the Holy See, and now that Yeseo is pretty much the Pope with Paten as his Plate/Vessel, we can assume that a double-Holy Pledge is on the table of possibilities (not to mention Cédric and Christelle's funky little soul bond haha).

As for him supplying ether to others, again, that's very valid. Yeseo is the type that likes to help others when he can. But also, I think he is also capable of trusting their other reliable priest friends, even more so when the war is over. Johann has (his future-daughter-in-law~) Eva and even our dear Priest Sand; Cornelisse has Isle; and Lynn and Cerise are young kids who would probably find their own intimate connections with priest companions of their own, once they grow up, too. After all, they can't rely on Mama Yeseo forever hehe (but the image is very sweet and tempting... maybe Yeseo will hold off the Holy Pledge just to nurse baby Cerise and little Lynn for a bit longer xDDD). But anyhow, it makes more sense for them to eventually find their own Religious Partners later (especially for Cerise Riester, who is actual Imperial Royalty).

As for your Pledge/Plate Concern #3, I remember I answered a similar thing on discord, so I'll just largely reiterate my response for there unto here haha:

The Plate-sharing between Yeseo and Losna is said to be one-way, as Yeseo's original plate was given to Losna upon his resuscitation, while the Paten in turn became Yeseo's. So while it's true that Yeseo's emotions and memories have been transferred to Losna, Yeseo doesn't get anything from Losna—so in terms of a Covenant, Cédric would probably be fusing his plate with YESEO'S PATEN, instead of his original Plate (which is now within Losna). So the ether sharing would be respectively between Cédric and Yeseo's Plates/Paten, and their souls would be connected from that point.

We can also naturally assume that Losna would still be able to feel Yeseo's emotions since he's the owner of Yeseo's Plate, but whether or not he could feel Cédric's is more ambiguous, but here is what I take from the affair:

1.) Losna owning Yeseo's Plate = Feeling Yeseo's emotions and having his memories.

2.) Cédric forming a Covenant with Yeseo's Paten Plate = Merging ether reservoirs and souls, thus knowing how the other feels (and to an extent, how they think).

—SO, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

Losna, who has Yeseo's Plate but not the PATEN plate, would still feel Yeseo. It's one-sided on Losna➡️Yeseo's part, and so perhaps Losna's indirect link to Cédric (who would be linked to Yeseo) would ALSO be onesided. He could feel what YESEO feels, but not what Cédric feels.

And re:Twins and Plate sharing—while Yeseo was fine with it, Cédric didn't like the sound/implications of selling the story as "Losna and Yeseo share a Plate" LMAO, so in the end, what happens is that the Frédérique ordered the Palace (or rather Bérénice haha) to basically fabricate a whole mythos surrounding Yeseo and Losna's origins as "twins" to sell to the public. One who was born with divinity, one born with mortality. There's a LOT to say about TWSB's use of religion and (fictional) religious propaganda throughout the series, but I won't get into much detail there haha. But just know that I think about it a lot, and again, I love love love how much politics and religion play a part in TWSB. It makes the world of kingdoms, empires, aristocracy and the everyman feel very real.

But anyhow, I don't believe Yeseo forming a Holy Pledge with anyone will cause any issues with Losna, too.

THOUGH!!! On Munpia, Sookym has finally released information on the Side Stories (WHICH IS COMING OUT THIS JANUARY‼️‼️‼️🥹🥹🥳), so perhaps we'll see a glimpse into the aftermath and how Religious Companionship is faring for Yeseo and friends!! I'll personally be totally fine with the story as is ending the way it did and with a lot up for natural interpretation because there are also a lot of other storylines and characters to explore even more in depth to hehe. But I'll probably be happy with whatever Sookym cooks 🥹 Maybe we can even hope for more modern setting shenanigans... who knows!!!

Anyhow, yeah!!! I hope this helped answer any questions or concerns!! Sorry for the late response haha, the questions that take longer answers generally require more energy on my part (both to gather my thoughts, to do some re-reading and research to avoid accidentally spreading misinfo 😭, as well as just writing out everything WKWKKWKW)

Again, I'm assuming you probably(?) finished reading TWSB till the end already, and I hope you enjoyed/are enjoying the rest of their journey!!! I hope you (and whomever might be reading this haha) tunes in for whenever the Side Stories come out in January!!!! 🙌🙌

[lipstickchainsaw]

what are your thoughts on contrarian? not my fav voice exactly, but i thought he was interesting in the ending where you leave with the stranger

Woo, it's been almost two weeks, but I've been thinking about this one.

I think the Contrarian is a very interesting voice, because he's just very much enjoying getting to annoy the fuck out of the narrator, but at the same time, he raises so many goddamn questions.

I first came across him during the Razor, where he (alongside the Broken, but who cares about the Broken) joins the Cheated in Chapter 3, and let me tell you, the Cheated and the Contrarian are an amazing combo, and they played off of each other well, although the Cheated is obviously more emotionally invested in beating the system than the Contrarian.

It was only when I got the Contrarian on his own that, uh, some things stopped making sense to me.

To get the Contrarian as a voice, you have to avoid the cabin as much as you possibly can, which means you don't even meet the Princess in Chapter 1. To the Contrarian, then, the Princess doesn't even exist as a real being; the only person existing outside of you (the protagonist) is the Narrator, and so he makes poking at the Narrator his entire existence.

When he does meet the Princess, he still doesn't see her as a real person, just as a vessel to annoy the Narrator, and this even makes some degree of sense! With every choice you make down there, you break reality a bit and create another Princess! So of course he doesn't think the Princess is real.

It's only when the various Strangers mix into one messy whole, where he realises this was an actual person, and his empathy rushes in to go 'oh shit, what did we do?'

'I didn't think our actions would have consequences.'

And this is really compelling, story-wise! I like it a lot!

It just doesn't make any goddamn sense!

Because the common theory is that you influence the Princess through your perception and belief of her (and your refusal to see her turns the Stranger into a Schrödinger's Princess, so this makes sense), and how the Princess sees you influences what voice you get.

Except you haven't met the Princess.

So where the fuck does the Contrarian come from? What is he? We have good reason to believe the Voices are the result of the messy split between Shifting Mound and Long Quiet, right? But clearly it's not the Princess causing the Contrarian to arrive. There's only one person outside of you who knows how you behaved in Chapter 1, and that's the Narrator, except the instance of the Narrator dies at the end of every Chapter 1!

And anyway, why isn't the Narrator ever confused about the presence of other Voices? He doesn't ever seem to be surprised when they show up, even if he might be shocked at their abilities, but at the same time, he doesn't know what it means for there to be multiple of them, either?

So what the fuck is going on here? Is it really the Narrator's final impression of you that spawns the Voice in the next chapter, and not the Princess?

But even then, the Contrarian is special, isn't he?

He's the only non-Hero voice that can show up in the Cabin at the end, if you started with the Stranger route, and you know what he says?

He says he's 'right where you left [him]'. What the fuck does that mean? Presumably it's similar to what happens when you kill the Shifting Mound and the other Voices show up to join you in the new world, but the Contrarian still plays a different role.

I feel like there's answers to be had here, but I'm clearly not big-brained enough to figure them out just yet!

[neuroticbookworm]

*deep breath* FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Alright, I'm gonna make my case for the Bad Buddy Rooftop Kiss. This is probably gonna be the most personal I've ever been on this hellsite.

Let's get this out of the way. I loved Kinnporsche. I honestly did (even though it might not look like it since this is the second time I'm passionately campaigning against the show). I loved it so much that I made my very busy best friend, @tonysteve25 who is planning their wedding, make up the time to talk to me so I can rant for two hours about the show (no need to judge me, I know y'all are equally crazy)

I'm gonna strip the plot to the basics and then build my argument, so if I end up reiterating a lot of themes that are already discussed, apologies in advance

Bad Buddy is, at its core, a Romeo and Juliet retelling. Set in a fairly conservative Asian country, and produced by a media industry whose brand of storytelling often involves an AU-esque setting where homophobia does not exist. We are shown time and again that Pat and Pran's friends and family do not have a problem with them being in a same-sex relationship.

So the conflict comes from the history their families have with each other. As a South Asian cinephile, I've watched this trope play out so many times with heterosexual couples that I'm sure it has unwittingly become a part of my brain chemistry. Oftentimes, the reasons why the families are feuding are so over the top that every shred of relatability gets thrown out the window.

In Bad Buddy's case, the reason is kept simple, albeit childish in the beginning. A business rivalry between the two families, and as a result, the boys are also pitted against each other. This simplicity gives way to a lot of levity in the beginning, but as the story progresses, the real strength of this narrative starts seeping through. This show is relatable. Almost too relatable.

The constant pressure to outperform the other in every way, be it academics, sports, or romance; the expectation on Pat to follow his dad's footsteps and match his achievements, even in a dumb singing competition; the guilt that permeates every moment of joy they feel in their relationship, because they are always aware that they are actively disappointing their parents; the quiet, painful realization in the later episodes that they will never be accepted into each other's families, no matter how hard they try; the revelation that the root of the conflict came from a scholarship stolen from a woman, to satisfy the expectations of a patriarch.

Every statement above is the reality of so many Asians living their lives right now. I personally know couples who have been cut off from their families for over 20 years because they don't approve of their love/marriage. I have peers who blindly follow the career path charted for them by their parents because it is easier than resisting and doing something they actually like. A lot of us are left feeling unmoored and struggling to define our self worth in the real world, after we leave academia, because that is all we are ever taught: your grades indicate how worthy you are.

Now, I know not a single word above argues why the kiss is the best, but I'm getting there. Stay with me now. Many people more talented than me have argued the specifics of the kiss, the reasons why it grabbed us by our throats the first time we saw it, and why we are still on that rooftop with them. The reasons submitted in the poll describe it so eloquently, beat by beat (edit: I found out that it was witten by @tiistirtipii, here). @respectthepetty begs us not to disappoint Pat again here, @lurkingshan dives deep into the character analysis and why the kiss is the perfect culmination of narration, pacing, and the characters' journey here, @waitmyturtles explores the importance of foreplay, the 'how did we get here' before the kiss, here.

What I want to draw attention to are two things. One: how this kiss was executed in such a way that all of their deeper struggles are woven into the microexpressions, so when you rewatch the show, all of the added context makes it so much more heartbreaking.

Let's be clear here, Pat and Pran did not get a happily ever after. They did not break all of the chains that were weighing them down. Pat went on to follow his father into the business (who also followed his father into it). They have to keep their relationship a secret, with no end in sight. Even in the end, the audience is shown only a hidden, reluctant acceptance from the parents, not an open love.

Pat and Pran's relationship will always be bittersweet. And the kiss shows it. The fact that the kiss was the very last shot to be filmed is no coincidence. The actors know how it ends, they have already performed it. They also know that the characters in this moment know it too. They have lived all their lives playing their families' games, they know that if they take this leap of faith, then they are willingly giving up so many little moments in life, even something so mundane as entering each other's house through the front door. And we can see it, see all of it clearly in Pran's face. Pran, who plans every detail of his life. Pran, who is also in love with his rival for who knows how long. And then we see it in Pat's face too, if only after a moment, because that's the way he is. Pat, who has looked at Pran all his life as a rival, a bandmate, a secret friend. Pat, who is the only one who can completely understand Pran, his anger and grief and devastation, because they only have each other in this wretched game. We see his face fall, and we see confusion cloud his happiness.

This kiss is the perfect summation of their relationship, shown at the very beginning of it. They can have desire, but be riddled with guilt. They can have happiness, but only in secrecy.

Two: how this kiss did more for Asian queer representation than we can ever comprehend.

I was not present in the Tumblr trenches with y'all when the show originally aired, but I've read many, many posts about how it broke the internet. Western media often fucks up queer characters because they don't write fully fleshed out characters who happen to also be queer. They place enormous emphasis on the character's queerness, and end up writing a stereotypical cardboard cutout in the shape of a queer person. Complex queer representation is hard to come by, add Asian into the mix and the pool gets laughably small.

In the episodes leading up to the kiss, we see the characters get fleshed out, their struggles explored, but they are also deeply rooted in the middle class Asianness of it all. I know it is ironic to say that other shows from Thailand are less Asian than this one, but the struggles of a queer mafia boss/rich businessman/heir to the corporate throne protagonists can sometimes be a tad out of touch for the general populace, and we can only feel so much nostalgia for our school days before we are tired of the saccharine sugar high.

When I saw this kiss for the first time, my eyes teared up, not because these gay characters are having a hard time, but because I could feel their pain, irrespective of my sexuality. I knew deep in my bones how a kiss can simultaneously feel like freedom and a lifelong trap. And I'm sure so many others felt it too. The kiss went viral because it was a perfect representation of so many struggles of Asians and the diaspora (and beyond), and it happened to be queer.

I don't know how the results will tally up when the clock runs out, but I hope we can chalk up a honest-to-goodness happy ending for them, if only in a silly Tumblr poll.

cc @bl-bracket, here ya go, a very long and rambling campaign propaganda

[ilikereadingactually]

Alien Clay

Alien Clay by Adrian Tchaikovsky

WOW WOW WOW. WOW. it's been a while since i've encountered a book as surprising as this one. not in a one-big-shock kind of way, but rather a pleasant slow creep of "are we really going there? oh my god, we are." key features of my delight include absolutely perfect use of "unreliable" limited first person narration, and expertly wielded sections of non-chronological narrative.

i've realized that i tend to approach these casual reviews more like a reading journal and i usually don't give any plot synopsis, which is related to how i like to approach books—with enough sense of the vibe to know i might like it, but not much foreknowledge of what it's about. but i've been feeling like maybe it would be useful to other people to have a tiny bit of synopsis, as a treat. so:

the plot of this book in one sentence: a xenobiologist and academic political dissident is sentenced to a labor camp on an alien world, where he is sure to die, but he might get to study alien life forms first.

it's a fascinating read, and feels very prescient right now. the way Tchaikovsky presents the political orthodoxy of this future, and the strengths and weak points of resistance from a perspective inside it, is so striking! and it's all happening inside this quiet growing horror, the source of which slowly shifts and evolves over the course of the book. what a treat to read a novel so fully unified in its themes, on every level of the narrative and even in the structure!

i also have to yell a little about the narrator, Arton Daghdev. he is simultaneously charming and pathetic, wickedly sharp and foolishly soft. his observations and assessments of himself and the people around him, of academia, of oppression and the oppressors, of the alien surroundings, are all so delightful to me and remind me favorably and unfavorably of many academics i know.

a complete stunner of a book, and my takeaway is that i should have been reading Tchaikovsky's books before now, and i will definitely be requesting some from my library.

the deets

how i read it: another e-galley from NetGalley! so close to digging out from the fall backlog i got stuck in!

try this if you: revel in ambiguous morality, have ever experienced academia, dig stories about resisting fascism, love to see a classic alien planet scenario turned on its head, or were into Scavengers Reign.

some lines i really liked: not kidding, i took 17 screencaps of possible inclusions for this section and whittled it down to a few examples of Tchaikovsky's funny and startling prose and incredibly sharp arguments.

Then we start grappling, slinging ourselves back and forth as the rest of the Labour jeer and cheer. He tries to ram a knee right into my academic credentials and I try to yank a fistful of that wiry beard out.

---

Primatt doesn't even look at me. If I'm a personnel file, it's one she hasn't opened. She makes her face into standard-expression-when-confronted-with-authority number seventeen: willingness to be enlightened.

---

And on such hills I die. That doubtless sounds stupid, to you who tell yourself you will take up arms when they starve your children, when they rob you of your goods, when they come for that demographic which includes you. But it's deviation from the truth that lets them do these things. It's the lies, at all levels, which mean when they come for you and yours, the others won't lift a finger, because they've believed the lies spread about you. It is the lies that starve your children because you believe the stories about general shortages, even though the grandees of the Mandate feast off gold plates every day of the year. And it is lies about science which cut most deeply, telling you that this or that group of people are naturally inferior, or another group has an innate ability to lead. That there is sufficient genetic distinction to make the call, when in actuality we share the vast bulk of our inheritance with mushrooms. Or else that, because of this kinship with mushrooms, our leaders are justified in keeping us in the dirt and feeding us shit.

---

He smiles thinly. I never saw so thin a smile. You could open your wrists with it.

---

"This could have been your crowning achievement," he tells me. "To contribute to solving the mystery. Instead of which you make it all about politics." Thus sayeth the politician when the scientist ventures an opinion.

pub date: September 17, 2024. GO READ THIS, IM NOT KIDDING AROUND HERE.

[bamdelune]

In Hindsight 📹 Ch. 22: "and i'd go back to december all the time"

note. not sure if it was something else that caused it but i kind of teared up while writing this HELP

warning. long narration! angst, hurt/comfort elements, small descriptions of death, crying, tiny bit of fluff.

If you asked the average person how they would feel on their final month alive, perhaps they would feel as if panic started to claw at their throat. Maybe they'd have an existential crisis right then and there. But for you, an eerie calm had begun to manifest. Like this moment was the eye of the storm, a disaster waiting to happen.

Ever the anxious type, you had settled almost all of the things that needed to be settled once you passed. Living wills, finances, relationships; including your album as well. Your production was coming to a close. You had a rather tearful conversation with your music and publicity team a few months ago after the music video shoot. You weren't sure if the eeriness you were experiencing was from facing death or the outcome of post-album release. You surely weren't getting any healthier but you still held on to the hope of the doctors magically finding a way to cure your condition. Back to the point, settling almost everything and anything permitted you a lot of free time to spend on your hands.

One year ago today, you met Kunikuzushi. A fresh intern at your regular hospital, you could almost laugh at how icy his demeanor was at the time, but you decide against it when you remember that you were spending time with the man himself.

"What are you laughing at?" Kuni asks, a suspicious look on his face.

"You."

Kuni scrunches his nose at that, "What did I do?"

A soft chuckle resounds from you, adjusting the positon of your head on Kunikuzushi's lap. The both of you drove to a peaceful area. Not too far from the city, but quiet enough to enjoy an intimate moment shared with each other. The stars scattered on the blanket of the night sky, like how freckles beautifully decorate a person's face. The stars reflected on the deep pools of his eyes, you knew Kuni was pretty but this was different. Maybe something was in the air tonight that made him more ethereal somehow.

"Remember the first time we met?" You look up at him, intertwining your fingers with his own.

He hums, "Yeah. I was freaking out."

"Really? You looked scary to me. Why were you freaking out?"

"A celebrity was right in front of me and I ate something with spinach right before that, I probably had something in my teeth." His lips form a straight line at the thought. "You know how my teeth get."

"Now that I think about it, maybe you did have something in your teeth." You tease, amused at how Kuni's eyes widen.

"Are you serious?"

"No."

Kuni takes this chance to pinch your side, to which you respond with a shriek.

"Ow! What the fuck." Your lips contort into a small pout, eyebrows furrowing at what he just did.

A few moments of silence pass. That's what was staple in your relationship with Kunikuzushi. Silence. Pure, comfortable silence. When it was just the two of you, you didn't really need to say many words just to spend time together. More often than not, Kuni would drive you to quiet places like just to sit in each other's presence. Sure, he didn't mind talking but silence just tells something more to him. You thought about how silence tells that there's mutual trust and comfort in each other.

"Do you ever regret... getting assigned to me?" You ask hesitantly. You don't look up at him to gauge his reaction, or rather you didn't want to see it.

He stays silent before speaking, "No." His fingers coming through the locks of your hair. "I do regret that we never really had or have, for that matter, much time after we graduated to actually, you know.." Kuni answers, trailing off.

Your heart twisted a little at that.

You'd call yourself a fraud, a liar if you said that you've never imagined a life without your illness once or twice, more than that, to be more accurate. Maybe you would've won something from some major award show, maybe you would see Xinyan debut into a spectacular idol singer, maybe you would even do a collaboration together. Or maybe you would've lived long enough to see the twins become lawyers

Perhaps you could've stayed long enough to see a life with Kunikuzushi that wasn't cut short by some cruel trick of time. Time was the enemy, it was you and him against time. There were billions of people in the world, but out of luck, you some how landed in this situation.

What would happen to you after you're gone? What happens to him? What happens to Kunikuzushi?

Kunikuzushi, who's seen your ups and downs. Kuni, who has witnessed your tears and your smiles. Kuni, who dove into this love knowing well enough that it was only a matter of time before you were gone for good. Kunikuzushi, who knew you for a breath of a year but loves you like he's known you a lifetime. He who loves you like tomorrow would never arrive.

Your chest clenches as the thoughts in your mind race, your throat felt constricted and before you knew it, salty tears pool in the corners of your eyes. You try your best to level your breathing, but Kunikuzushi knew you too well.

"Hey, idiot. What's going on?" His tone turning soft and tender. It made you want to tear your hair out, how could the universe give you this kind of guy but give you so little time?

The pads of his fingers gently wipe the streams on your face. Everything about him was so soft right now. His voice, his expression, his touch. It was absolutely not helping. For the first time ever, you feared death. How dark it would be without anyone. No Xinyan, Lumine, Aether. No him to hold your hand as you lay.

You sniffle a little too loudly than you intended and you don't notice that small pained whimpers continuously leave your lips as you cry. You were going to miss him so much, and it hurt to even think about it.

"Fuck, Kuni. I'm scared." You manage to say in between quiet hiccups, wiping at the teardrops on your face in attempt to calm yourself down. Your chest heaves erratically. How do you breathe? Two in, one out? One in, three out, and a gasp?

He sits you up and encases you in a warm embrace. Everything that he was doing just made you want to sob harder. Kuni, despite his supposedly cold demeanor, gave the best and warmest hugs. His arms lock under your own. One arm tightened around your frame while the other rubbed circles on your back. The way it was so simple was the most gut-wrenching thing you could experience.

"Hey, I'm here. You hear me right? I'm still right here, always. I wouldn't ever dream of leaving you alone." He mutters. It wasn't loud, but it was enough for you to hear. Your shoulders shook in his arms as you hiccup and sniffle. Your brain was fuzzy, a flurry of emotions taking place all at once and it was simply too much to process.

He pulls back and cups your face. Kuni's eyebrows furrow for a moment before pressing a comforting peck on your lips. Thereafter, he kisses the lids of your eyes as tears continue to flow.

"I'm—I'm sorry I dragged you into something like this." You whisper hoarsely, your throat closing up.

Kuni's lips form into a straight line, a frown settling on his lips before disagreeing.

"You're stupid, you know that? I'd do all this over again, if it meant that it would get you to stay longer," He pauses before saying "Just don't go anywhere I can't follow."

synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as life begins to seep out of your own body? (scaramouche x gn!reader)

tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.

taglist. (status: open) — @beriiov @alatusorrow @ohmyfinggod @itzblazekun @featuredtofu @sketcheeee @lazy-sanns @sakurapeach @sheraffim @vxmp-loml @sukunasrealgf @sleepning @yukiipc @thenightsflower @aqvvas @scaramoo @coquettemaiden @dappledstars @pooonyo @certified-simp-4evr @alatus-viator @yuminako @zephestia @mellowberrie (comment/send an ask to be added or removed, please let me know if i forgot to add you since my notification feed can be flooded sometimes!)

masterpost ★ masterlist © bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!